


Torn and Frayed

by AlexiaBlackbriar13



Series: Falling, Failing, Flying [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abuse, And I mean PRE - Freeform, Angst, Avengers Assemble - Freeform, BAMF Avengers, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Hurt Loki, Hurt Tony Stark, Implied Torture, Iron Man 1, Iron Man 2, Lots of Trust Issues, Mutant Powers, Mutants, Pre FrostIron - Freeform, Protective Avengers, Science Bros, Spontaneous Powers, Telekinesis, Tony Explodes Stuff, Tony Has Trust Issues, Tony Stark has wings, Winged Tony Stark, Wingfic, Wings, alternative universe, bro feels, injuries, no seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 03:28:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2717222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexiaBlackbriar13/pseuds/AlexiaBlackbriar13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark was a genius. Tony Stark was a hero. Tony Stark was Iron Man.</p><p>He was not a mutant and he certainly wasn't hiding massive eighteen-foot wings in a parallel dimension.</p><p>Or that's what everybody thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1: Shattered

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired a lot by The Last Archangel and other stories. Please enjoy and comment at the end...

Tony had them since he was born. They were unusual, yes, but at the time, Maria Stark had fawned over him, saying he was unique, special. When Tony Stark was first born and was held in his father's arms, Howard Stark had recoiled in horror on seeing the two little feathery stubs coming out of his son's shoulder blades. He had refused to accept them. A mere baby at the time, Tony couldn't comprehend what was going on.

When Tony turned one, the feathery stubs grew and developed into a breath-taking pair of healthy, white wings. As a toddler, he couldn't help but exercise them daily - they fluttered when he tried to climb up onto chairs or the couch, and they flapped when his mom held him in the air.

By the time he was four, he realised something was wrong. He was the only person with wings. Obadiah and his mom and dad didn't have wings, and the people on TV didn't have wings either. Not to mention the fact that his father had explicitly told him not to talk about the wings, and wouldn't touch them.

"It's not natural, Maria," Howard hissed at his wife while in his study one day. "I would have that boy taken to surgery and have them cut off!"

Tony left, his heart sinking and wings drooping. He was only four when he began to understand.

"Daddy," a six year old Tony said timidly, his pure white wings rustling nervously. "I wanna learn to fly."

The first time Howard struck him was the first time his feathers darkened and a few of his tertials and primaries turned from shining white to black.

By the time Tony was eight, he had realised his wings were a taboo subject. If he wasn't in his room and if he was in public, he had to have them bound to his back. It was uncomfortable and he hated it, but he didn't dare say a word. Maria groomed them for him before he went to bed, but it was a silent ritual.

So at night he snuck out onto his balcony and began building his muscle strength, flapping and beating his wings powerfully.

He first flew when he was twelve. His wings had grown far too big for his body, at least fourteen feet spanned, and he managed on a cold November night to hover three feet above the ground. He celebrated by crashing into a tree.

When Tony went to MIT, his father demanded for him to have his wings strapped to his back. They remained unseen by his friends, from when he was fifteen onwards.

On that terrible day when he was seventeen, his white wings that before had been flecked with black turned a jet midnight. The day he found out about the car accident, he went into a terrible molt, leaving white feathers everywhere he went, and when the feathers grew back, they were the gleaming colour of night.

He didn't groom them. He didn't fly. He knew he was denying himself, but it was the only way he could grieve. His mother and father had been the only people in the whole world who had known about his wings. Now he had nobody.

On his eighteenth birthday, there was a change. Obadiah walked in when Tony was stretching, his now eighteen foot wingspan fully extended, his black wings towering. Tony panicked, but Obadiah didn't even seem to notice. It was then that Tony realised that he could make his wings appear and reappear into a separate dimension plate at will. This was, of course, incredibly useful. He could go out in public and lead Stark Industries into an era of greatness without revealing his wings. There was, however, a problem. Every month, when it was time for him to shed a few feathers and preen, his wings became visible, and he couldn't control them.

Afghanistan marked a change in a legacy. He was there for three months, so for the time he was in captivity, his wings were visible for three weeks. The terrorists were very interested. He screamed when they tore his feathers out and sobbed when they broke his wing bones. After the rough treatment, Yinsen would try and calm him down, but touching Tony's wings only caused him to break down into a panic attack.

When Tony arrived back in the States, nothing was the same. His wings were hidden, but whenever somebody brushed too close to his back, he scuttled back out of the way, on the verge of panic and hyperventilation. He couldn't help but react this way even with Pepper, and Tony could tell she was starting to notice.

When his 'time of the month' came and his wings pinged into existence out of the parallel plane, ripping through the back of his shirt, Tony spread them to half span, swallowing. His wing bones creaked and ached and his flight feathers were tattered and some even broken. He texted Pepper and Rhodey and Obadiah and lied to them that he was working on the arc reactor and shouldn't be disturbed for a week and yes, he would remember to eat and sleep.

Once his Malibu mansion was secure, Tony ordered JARVIS to turn off all security cams and bugs before standing with a spread stance, pulling his top off and shaking his wings out, beginning to thread his fingers through his feathers, and black feathers began drifting to the ground. Before Afghanistan his wings had been a shining midnight, smart and beautiful, but now they were dulled and tatty. Tony could only hope with his next molt, his wings' health would improve.

"Sir, my security perimeter has been breached," JARVIS started, sounding alarmed. "Scans detect that -"

"TONY?!" Pepper cried out, standing in the doorway, her mouth falling open in shock and her shaking hands raising to cover it.

The black wings snapped inwards, pressing against Tony's spine and shoulders as he shrank away, cowering back against the wall. When Pepper tried to approach, her hands held out in the 'placate wild animal' gesture, Tony bared his teeth in a wild snarl.

"Tony," Pepper whispered, "I'm not going to hurt you."

After a second, Tony said quietly, "I told you to stay away."

"I know. But - I - I was worried," Pepper admitted, managing to take a step closer.

Tony turned away, a tremor running through his wings. "So now you see," he said bitterly, "what a freak I am."

"No, Tony..." Pepper replied, and there were tears in her eyes. "They're beautiful."

Tony gave a short bark of incredulous laughter. "Yeah, right," he muttered sarcastically. "They're horrific, Pep."

"No, they're not," Pepper responded softly. "They're magnificent. You look like an angel, Tony. I love them."

Tony glanced at her and, on seeing she was serious and this was on no accounts some joke or a sick trick, his face fell into one of despair and disbelief. "No, you can't - you can't say that. Not - you can't say that when it's not true." He now looked frustrated, turning away from her and fanning them out so she could properly view them from behind. "Look. I'm a freak, Pepper. I shouldn't exist. They're horrific. You should be running away from the monster. You should report me and get me locked up. I'm a monster. Don't you understand?!"

Pepper looked heartbroken. "Oh, Tony," she whispered, her voice breaking. "How could you think that?"

"Because it's true!" He shouted, desperation leaking into his voice and his wings spreading out in his frustration, which caused Pepper to eye them with awe. He drew the wings back in quickly and they dropped miserably, a few stray black feathers floating in the faint gust of wind he created. "I - I have to be a monster, a freak, otherwise Dad wouldn't of -" He cut off, shaking terribly.

Pepper didn't say anything, just strode forwards, trying to pretend that his obvious flinch didn't upset her, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, above his wings, in a warm hug, only embracing him tighter when he tried to push her away.

"Tony, you are not a monster, or a freak, or not meant to exist."

"But Dad said -"

"Then Howard Stark was a dick and an idiot and a terrible father." She hesitated before asking: "Can I?"

Tony stepped away from her, now looking quite nervous and skitterish. "You want to touch?"

Pepper quickly assured, "I don't mind if you say no. It's just - they look like the feathers need straightening out."

Tony snorted. "Yeah, well, that's what happens when you're trapped with terrorists for three months."

Pepper looked horrified. "Oh god. You mean they..."

Tony was silent, before answering quietly, "I can usually hide them, in a separate dimension plate not visible to us, but around once a month, they come out because they need preening and I can't hide them." He swallowed. "Let's just say, the Ten Rings were very interested." He stopped before asking, less confidently, "You wanna touch 'em?"

"Not if you don't want me to," Pepper repeated.

Tony stared at her for a moment. "Just be careful."

He stepped into the middle of the room and, taking a large breath, he began spreading out eighteen feet of inky black feathers. He managed to get them to three-quarter span before self preservation took over and Tony started panicking slightly.

But then Pepper's hand was on his bare back, soothing, warmth on the skin between his wings and rubbing little circles. Tony began talking: about how he was born with them, about how they had been pure white but then how they had turned black, about how his parents had treated him, about how nobody else alive now knew. Except her.

It was when he had started explaining how he had discovered how he could hide them that Pepper brushed a hand over stiffened, ruffled black feathers. Tony froze and instantly clammed up, his breathing and heart rate increasing and tremors running through his wing's muscles.

"I'm here, you're safe," Pepper whispered, and soon it became a mantra that she repeated gently and soothingly as she began straightening feathers and allowing loosening ones to fall.

Pepper halted suddenly and took a sharp intake of breath. "Tony. Did you say your wings were pure black?"

"Yes, that I know of, why?" He questioned, worried.

There was a beat of silence. "They're not anymore. Come on." She led him over by the elbow to a large full length mirror in a spare bedroom off of the floor.

Tony turned so his back face the mirror, keeping his neck craned over his shoulder, and under Peppers instruction, started slowly spreading his wings again. He instantly startled. The entirety of his greater primary and secondary coverts on both wings had changed from a deep black midnight to an electric arc reactor blue.

"Oh," he swallowed, turning and examining the new colour, his head feeling heavy and wings gaining a sudden weight to them. "Oh...okay..."

"Hey," Pepper took hold of his chin and forced him to turn his head towards her. "You're alright. You're fine. I'll help you through this."

Examining the newly cobalt coverts as Pepper began running her fingers through them to groom them, Tony gazed at his personal assistant and asked himself where his life had finally started to become right.

But then, everything went wrong. Obadiah ripped the arc reactor out of his chest and his wings instantly appeared, flapping and beating in a frenzy, some crazy survival instinct jumping into play and every time Obadiah touched his wings, Tony gagged and felt sick, violated, raped. He stopped Obadiah with the Iron Man suit and dealt with the press. Well, not exactly dealt with it.

Iron Man/Tony Stark became a national figure and the Stark Expo opened. Dealing with the palladium poisoning became difficult as well; when one of the palladium cores became depleted enough, his wings appeared uncontrollably. This meant that Pepper was constantly asking why his wings suddenly appeared and Tony had to come up with a range of excuses. Vanko ruined the Monaco race, and Rhodey stole the Mark 2 suit at his birthday party. Then came Fury and Romanov, who locked him in his Malibu house and forced him to work to find a new element to use as the arc reactor core. The lithium dioxide stopped the symptoms of the poisoning but unknown to Tony, the core was running out rapidly.

It was when Agent Phil Coulson walked down the steps into his workshop to check on Tony, that everything went to hell. He came face to face with an unconscious winged genius curled up beneath the main table. Standing and staring, shocked for a moment, Coulson instantly leapt into action, carefully propping Tony up and grabbing a glass of water to throw onto his face.

"Mr Stark?" Coulson asked urgently.

Finally, the man stirred and blinked owlishly at the agent, his pupils fully dilated and breathing shallow. The great black wings shifted and spread and drew in close to his body protectively.

"What do I do? How can I help you?"

"Main desk," Tony rasped weakly. "Top...top drawer. Should... Should be a case of...palladium cores..."

Coulson practically had to push every stack of paperwork to the floor to find the drawer. He finally managed it get the case out and pick out one full palladium core and when he turned back to kneel down and pass it to Tony, the winged genius had the arc reactor open in his hand. Tony replaced the core quickly before planting the arc reactor back in the chest cavity, exhaling in relief as energy began trickling back into his body and a sense of strength returned to him.

"I expect some sort of explanation," Coulson said, glancing pointedly at the wings.

Tony glared up at him. "Give me a minute to catch my breath. I did just nearly have my heart shredded by shrapnel."

"Stop being so dramatic." Coulson held out a hand and helped Tony to his feet, eyeing the pair of wings with obvious interest as they flared and adjusted to keep the man balanced.

Tony shot him a disdainful look and his coverts fluffed up defensively. He made a wide arc around Coulson, wings held stiffly and began picking up stacks of paperwork and slamming them back onto his desk.

Coulson watched him for a moment before striding straight up behind him and taking one of Tony's main flight feathers in hand, examining it. A low feral growl erupted from Tony's throat and his eyes flashed dangerously.

Jumping back, his arms raised in the air in surrender, the agent apologised softly, "Sorry. Just making sure I wasn't hallucinating."

"Well if you're hallucinating," Tony muttered, "Then I've been from birth."

"You were born with them, then?" Coulson asked quietly, standing a respectful distance back, but still close enough to be able to examine the thin aqua stripe in the sea of black feathers. "They were always like this?"

Tony began tinkering again, slowly building a tiny version of a hadron collider in the workshop, occasionally glancing at JARVIS's screens and turning around to check on You, Butterfingers and Dummy. "Not exactly. They grew over time, obviously. When I first had them, they were pure white. Then I gained a few black feathers, then they went completely black. The blue feathers are a recent development. Happened after Afghanistan."

"I presume Miss Potts knows."

Tony stopped for a moment and simply stared at the agent as if he was a complete idiot. Coulson managed a small smile at that. One of Tony's eyebrows quirked and his right wing twitched, before he turned back to making the atom collider.

"So," Tony said casually, glancing back at him. "This gonna stay between us or am I gonna have to worry about SHIELD scientists knocking down my door?"

Coulson was silent. There was a brief second where neither did anything, and they both stared each other down. The agent could see the hidden fear and worry in the genius' eyes, and Tiny could see the hesitancy in Coulson's.

"I think it would be much more beneficial for this to stay confidential," Coulson finally said, slowly.

Tony visibly relaxed, his tense wings becoming more accommodating and friendly. "Ain't that a relief. What's Mr Pirate Guy gonna say when he finds you've been holding out on him, Coulson?"

Coulson grinned, fully and open this time. "Fury's not going to find out, so that's nothing I need to worry about. And please, Mr Stark, Phil. I think after today, we should be on first name basis."

"Then I'm Tony. Mr Stark makes me think you're calling my Dad."

And that was that. Coulson knew, and there was nothing more too it. Justin Hammer was stopped, Vanko's plans were destroyed and Iron Man was listed as a candidate for the Avengers Initiative (though Tony was pissed because what, did Fury think that the suit would work without him in it? Nuh uh).

A few weeks later, during his molting week, for that was what Pepper liked to call it, Coulson turned up again. Pepper had Tony's wings spread out in full span and was threading her fingers through, removing any loose feathers and straightening his coverts when JARVIS announced that Agent Coulson was entering the building and overriding all of his access codes. Minutes later, the SHIELD agent casually strolled in, walking straight past Pepper and coming to a halt in front of Tony.

"You're a mutant," Coulson said.

"Wow. I didn't notice," Tony replied, deadpan. "Seriously, is that all you came here to say?"

"No," Coulson shot back, though he looked flustered. "Good evening, Miss Potts."

"Hello, Phil," Pepper responded with a weak smile.

"Technically, I'm not a mutant," Tony carried on, staring at Coulson. "I checked. All those SHIELD files about the X-gene and mutated cells and stuff... That isn't this. I examined my own DNA, and it's not mutation."

"We should consult with a specialist," Coulson suggested.

"Yeah, let me think about it... No." Tony raised his eyebrows. "And stop standing there and gawping. I can tell you wanna touch them." He paused. "Okay, that sounded a lot less dirty in my head. But still, offer stands. Usually takes Pepper and I at least three hours to do all eighteen feet. An extra pair of hands would do wonders."

And that was how Phil Coulson ended up every four weeks spending a day with Tony and Pepper, grooming Tony's wings. The three of them became close; being the only three in the world who knew about Tony's extra limbs, they had to be.

............

Everything was going great. Pepper and he set up Stark Tower in New York, if only because the extra floor space meant that Tony couldn't make excuses for hiding his wings and he could have them out all the time when they were alone together, per Pepper's request. Tony connected the tower to the power grid and as he flew back through the streets of New York in the suit, the lights went up, taking his breath away.

Just as Tony and Pepper began celebrating with the champagne, JARVIS interrupted. "Sir, the telephone. I'm afraid my protocol's are being overwritten."

Tony's Starkphone lit up on the table, Coulson immediately saying, "Tony, we need to talk."

Tony rolled his eyes and picked up the phone, pointing it at his face and smiling cheekily. "You have reached the life model decoy of Tony Stark, please leave a message."

Coulson sighed. "This is urgent."

"Then leave it urgently."

At that very moment, the elevator door opened and Coulson appeared, looking slightly annoyed, but otherwise smiling, files and briefcase in hand.

"Security breach," Tony quipped with a smile. He turned to Pepper and whispered, "That's on you."

Coulson raised am eyebrow. "Tony," he greeted, exasperated.

Pepper grabbed Coulson's hand and pulled him down the stairs towards Tony. "Phil! Come in."

Tony spluttered. "Come in?"

Coulson shook his head in apology to Pepper. "I can't stay."

"Uh...this is a private floor," Tony tried.

"Come on in, we're celebrating."

Tony groaned. "Which is why he can't stay."

Coulson chuckled at Tony's put out look. "Don't worry, I'm not interrupting your evening. We need you to look this over." He held out a thick file and levelled a pointed stare at Tony. "Soon as possible."

Tony looked at it with distaste. "I don't like being handed things."

Pepper smiled grittily at him. "That's alright, cause I love to be handed things. So, let's trade."

She passed her glass of champagne to Coulson and took the file from him, then took her champagne glass back and shoved the file into Tony's hand. Tony grumbled and looked down at it.

"And you know the rules," Pepper reminded gently, tapping his arm.

"Pep," Tony whined.

Pepper crossed her arms, both eyebrows raised. Sulkily, Tony released his wings from the other dimension, shaking them out twice before they dropped to show how his emotion to being bossed around.

Pepper pecked him on the cheek. "Thank you."

Tony turned to Coulson, complaining, "Phil, official consulting hours are between eight and five every other Thursday for SHIELD, you know that!"

Coulson shook his head. "This isn't a consultation."

Pepper perked up, looking interested. "Is this about the Avengers?" Phil shot her suspicious look and she quickly added, "Which I...I know nothing about."

Tony walked away with the file in hand, his wings catching the air and gliding him down the stairs towards the work desk. "Yeah, sorry Phil, might have mentioned it to her. But the Avengers Initiative was scrapped, I thought. And I didn't even qualify."

Pepper looked surprised. "I didn't know that either."

Tony scoffed. "Iron Man did, but not Tony Stark. Yeah, apparently I'm volatile, impulsive, narcissistic, self obsessed, don't play well with others and addicted to stimulants and my own inventions."

"That I did know," Pepper muttered.

"Thanks for that, Phil," Tony called back.

"I did apologise for that, Tony," Coulson said, looking sheepish. "And anyway, this isn't about personality profiles anymore."

Tony started opening up the file and examining the content, Pepper opening staring in awe at at all the footage of Captain America, the Hulk, Thor and two skilled SHIELD agents, one of which was Tony and Pepper's former under cover PA, 'Natalie' Natasha Romanoff.

"So, what's got you so shaken?" Tony questioned, directing his inquiry at Phil. "You're not usually this formal on SHIELD visits."

"Something happened at a SHIELD facility," Coulson admitted. "I'm not permitted to speak about it here, but I promise, as soon as I'm cleared, I'll tell you."

"And Fury's still in the dark about Tony's...condition?" Pepper asked delicately.

"Great choice of words, Pep," Tony said sarcastically.

"He doesn't know. JARVIS scans me for any bugs before I enter the tower. As long as we're careful, SHIELD won't ever know."

Tony swirled his champagne glass and strode back towards the pair, wings ruffling. "I feel like flying. I have the urge to go out and fly." He paused. "Yeah, I'm gonna go fly."

"You have homework," Pepper reminded him.

"So what, homework can be handed in late."

Then that whole dilemma in Germany with Loki happened, and when he was on the SHIELD helicarrier, he could smell something fishy was going on, so injected a mini section of JARVIS into the SHIELD systems on a J-Drive (his own personal invention, he was pleased to say) to start hunting widdle bits of info out.

It was when he was working down in the labs with Doctor Bruce Banner, tracking down the stolen Tesseract, that his JARVIS watch beeped to let him know JARVIS had found something relevant.

He stated sorting through it. "You know, Doctor, I have this theory thing. I don't think Loki's in control of his actions. Well, not anymore than Agent Barton and Doctor Selvig are."

Bruce nodded. "You believe Loki's being mind-controlled."

"Mind controlled, brain washed, one of those things. But seriously, have you seen the guy? He looks like a light breeze could do him in. He's freakin' terrified."

"Terrified isn't the word I would use to describe him. Psychotic, maybe. Crazy, probably."

"No, can't you see? It's in his eyes. Earth is the last place he wants to be. And have you heard Thor's story? Loki tried to commit suicide. Now he suddenly turns up gone all Terminator? Naw, something ain't right. And you can bet your ass I'm gonna find out what."

Bruce was silent, and Tony caught sight of an interestingly dead-locked and coded file. He quickly hacked it and began to read. Scanning the information put forward to him, Tony's hands curled into tight fists and he started shaking in pure anger, fury radiating off of him. It took all of his strength and will to keep his wings hidden and to stop them spreading out to full span. A low hiss escaped his throat and Bruce finally looked up at him worriedly.

"Mr Stark?" He asked hesitantly. Then, "Tony, what are you looking at?"

Bruce pulled the monitor towards him and zoned out as he started reading the information, a blank mask coming over his face. It was that moment when Director Fury marched in, with Romanoff and Thor following behind.

"You're supposed to be finding the cube," Fury demanded.

Tony slowly raised his head to look at him, and his eyes were glittering dangerously, his stance spreading into one of aggression. Fury stepped back, oblivious to what had made the genius so angry.

"'Superhuman-Mutant Detention Programme'?" Tony snarled, livid and do trembling. "What kind of sick operation are you running here?"

Natasha startled, looking shocked. "I'm sorry, what are we talking about?"

"I knew something was off about this the moment I landed on this hunk of metal," Tony said angrily. "I released JARVIS into the system to start revealing the stuff you were hiding - such interesting information he found, Fury."

"'All super humans and known mutants are to be registered on behalf of SHIELD's protection act and, if pose a threat, are to be contained in Nebraska Containment Centre.'" Bruce read out from the screen, his voice flat. "So tell me, Director. What exactly qualifies somebody as a threat in your eyes?"

"And what exactly is Phase Two?" Tony added, glaring.

Then Steve burst on with a massive gun in his arms, and he dropped in down in front of them, causing a loud crash. "Phase Two is using the cube to build weapons."

Bruce turned to Fury. "WHY?"

"Because of him!" Fury nodded at Thor. "We need to be able to defend ourselves as a planet. Any number of attacks could come, and New Mexico proved we're not ready. Loki, super humans, mutants - they call pose a possible threat to humanity. And if they are threatening the human race, then we need to blast them out of the picture."

Tony started shaking and swearing and backing away on unsteady feet, shaking his head, panicked. Romanoff began reaching for his arm to ground him.

Tony pointed at her. "No, get away from me. Stay away. This - this isn't - this isn't humane, this isn't right. You can't lock people up for existing. You can't. It's WRONG!"

"I don't see why the S.M.D.P. should concern you, Stark," Fury said, eyes narrowing. "You aren't super or mutant. Unless you have something you'd like to announce?"

Tony didn't reply, and was saved from answering by Coulson running in, slightly out of breath. He stopped and, on seeing the furious, shaking Tony and a glaring Fury, said, "I'm going on a whim here and saying it was the S.M.D.P. that caused him to want to smash your head in."

Tony faltered and stepped back. There was such betrayal in his eyes, horror and fear shining in them so brightly that it made Coulson cringe. "You...you knew about this?" He questioned, voice barely audible.

Coulson seemed to realise the great wrong he had committed and reached out, but Tony shied away, some hint of his old hesitancy showing. Ignoring the curious stares of the other people in the room, the agent admitted quietly, "Yes, Tony, I knew. That doesn't mean I agreed with it."

"Guys..." Bruce muttered, frowning at his screen.

"It doesn't matter that you didn't agree with it!" Tony shouted. "You kept this?! From me?! How could you?! I trusted you!"

"You still can!" Coulson tried.

"Stay away from me," Tony said, baring his teeth. "You stay out of the Tower and my house and you leave Pepper and JARVIS alone, do you hear me?"

"Oh my god," Banner whispered, then louder, a panicked yell, "GUYS!"

There was a deafening crash, the glass windows shattered and the floor caved. Smoke billowed up from the debris of the floor; Tony dived sideways out of the falling pieces of ceiling. The helicarrier tilted sideways dangerously and, losing his grip on the floor, Tony slid sideways and slipped off of the landing deck, free-falling into the air, air whipping past him.

He tried to scream, but nothing came out, as he choked on the air that rushed into his mouth. He was falling, hard and fast and he tried to righten himself, so he was falling stomach-first, but it was a struggle.

Moments later, survival instinct overcame him, and his wings appeared and shot out, immediately slowing him and pulling him upright. They beat in a frenzy to steady him before he managed to just hover, wings flapping in sync, powerful muscles supporting him. Tony breathed in and out heavily, closing his eyes in relief, before he began ascending easily, catching a warm air current that lifted him upwards.

There was fire on the helicarrier and great buffets of thick back smoke coming from the control centre and one of the engines. An engine had been blown out and the air carrier was slowly losing altitude. And there, just in his eyesight, was a hovering craft, most probably containing Loki's brainwashed soldiers.

Determination clouding his judgement, Tony swooped towards a clear landing space on the helicarrier, his eighteen foot black wings causing puffs of concealing dust to rise into the air and surround him. He landed with relative ease, hiding his wings and immediately headed towards where the Iron Man suit was being kept safe, and he was relieved to see that the area it was stored was unhit.

He was about to enter the room when someone crashed into him from the opposite direction - and just his luck, it was Steve Rogers. The man stared at him in confusion and disbelief.

"How are you here?" the Captain demanded.

"Don't know whatcha talking about, Spangles," Tony said through gritted teeth as he tried to force a locked door open, that he didn't have the access code for. He gave up and knelt down, taking out his phone.

Steve grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back to face him. "You fell off the helicarrier," he said firmly. "You shouldn't be alive, let alone here trying to - what are you doing?"

"Breaking open this door so I can get the suit." He stuck his tongue out in concentration as he managed to wriggle a new code into the door's electronic lock, forcing it to click open. "Ha! I'm a genius."

Before he could step through, Steve had him pinned by one arm against the wall, and his stare was hard and cold. "How did you get back onto the helicarrier? You were falling to your death!"

"That time in the ice must have scrambled your brain, Capsicle," Tony laughed, trying to not sound nervous. "I fell through the next floor, just like you did."

"No, you didn't. I saw you, Stark. You fell off of that deck. Stop lying. That may work for you out in your world, but in the real world, all it does is make things worse."

"Oh really?" Tony narrowed his eyes. "And who are who to speak about the real world? The real world is dangerous, Rogers! The only way to protect yourself is to put up a mask and hide your emotions."

Steve growled. "What, like you did with that suit? Take that off, and what are you?"

"Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist," Tony replied instantly, sass evident in his tone.

Steve shook his head. "I know guys with none of that worth ten of you. I've seen the footage. The only thing you really fight for is yourself. You're not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you."

Tony shrugged, trying to pull away towards the door, making a smart comment: "I think I would just cut the wire."

Steve chuckled darkly, slamming him back against the wall. "Always a way out. Always in it for yourself. Always letting other people take the fall for you. Is that why you were so scared of that Detention Programme? Because in there, there is nobody to give their life for you? You know, you may not be a threat, but you better stop pretending to be a hero."

Tony's eyes glittered in anger and he hissed, "A hero, like you? You're a laboratory experiment, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a bottle. I know everything; my Dad wouldn't shut up about you. He was so focused on making you his lab rat that he didn't even notice his own son suffering, alone!" He pushed out of Steve's grip. "Let me go. I have people to save."

Steve stared at him. He repeated, "How did you survive falling off of the helicarrier?"

"I TOLD YOU! I didn't fall off, I fell down onto the bottom floor!" Tony yelled.

Steve didn't look convinced. Instead he looked slightly unsure. Tony held his breath; had somebody in that lab seen him release his wings to stop his fall? But then, after a second or two, he let him go. Tony raised an eyebrow at him but vanished into the room, the suit assembling around his body and JARVIS instantly greeting him. 

Barely half an hour later and the whole disaster had ended. The action had finished. The engine was working again, thanks to Tony and Steve, but Loki had escaped. However, Barton had been broken out of whatever mind control Loki had used on him, and was recovering in a small medical room, Natasha sitting by his side.

Tony clambered out of the suit and powered it down before he and Steve started quickly making their way down to the main control room. It was half blown to bits, with a few agents still trying to put out fires and most trying to get the systems back up. Maria Hill was sitting on the floor with her head in her hands; some medic had treated a bloody gash on her head hurriedly. Fury was leaning against a railing, eyes closed, looking pained.

Tony glanced about before turning to Fury and asking demandingly, "Where's Phil?"

Fury didn't answer his question. "We need to start rebooting systems of the helicarrier - Stark, much as I hate to admit it, we could use JARVIS's help with this, he's more advanced than any of our technicians and already keyed into our system as you revealed earlier."

"No. First you tell me where Phil is," Tony insisted, striding forwards and pointing at him accusingly, the arc reactor feeling hot in his chest. "We find Coulson, then JARVIS helps you. Where is he?!"

Maria Hill stood very slowly and raised her head, and when her gaze met Tony's, her eyes were unmistakably full of tears. "Agent down," she croaked.

Tony was silent. Speechless. Shocked. Staggering backwards, he fell into a chair and sat, stunned, unable to believe what he had just heard. Then, finally seeming to accept what he had just heard, he closed his eyes and inside his head, he began to weep earnestly. To the agents around him, he just appeared to be sitting stoically in his seat, not able to comprehend Hill's words, but inside, his soul was crying. In the other dimension plane, his wings quivered and shook in unspoken agony.

Tony completely zoned out, only tuning to listen vaguely to Fury as he spoke. "There was an idea, Stark knows this, called The Avengers Initiative. The idea was to bring together a group of remarkable people, see if they could become something more. See if they could work together when we needed them to, to fight the battles that we never could." Fury paused and then continued in a softer voice: "Phil Coulson died still believing in that idea, in heroes."

Unable to listen anymore, Tony stood and left. He couldn't bear to hear about Coulson's beliefs when Tony had so obviously failed him. There had been only three people who had known about Tony's wings; now that was knocked down to two and it felt like a hole had been torn in his heart. It was pain worse than when Obadiah had ripped the arc reactor out.

He went and sat, cross legged, in the little holding room for the Iron Man suit, leaning against the wall and staring at it glassily. He so desperately wanted to cry. But he couldn't.

"Hey."

Tony glanced sideways and, seeing who it was, turned back to staring at the suit. Steve slid down the wall so he was sitting next to him, silent.

"Was he married?" Steve asked quietly.

Tony replied solemnly, "No. He was dating..." He rubbed his eyes. "A cellist, I think. Lives in Portland."

Silence again, and then in a small voice, "I'm sorry. He seemed like a good man."

Tony shook his head, his hands fiddling in his lap and he let out a dry chuckle. "He was an idiot."

"Why? For believing?"

"For taking on Loki alone."

Steve looked confused. "He was doing his job."

"He was out of his league," Tony muttered, running a shaky hand through his hair. "He should have waited. He should have..."

"Sometimes there isn't a way out, Tony," Steve told him in a strangely wise tone.

"Right. How did that work for him?" Tony gave a bitter laugh. "I should have been there. I should have protected him. He was one of my best friends and the last words I said to him were that I didn't trust him." The words tasted sour in his mouth. "The last words he got to hear from me were that I wanted him to stay away from me and my family. Oh god... What have I done?"

"Tony, it wasn't your fault. What you're feeling is survivor's guilt." He paused before he asked gently, "Is this the first time you've lost a soldier?"

Tony lashed out. "He was not a soldier! And we're not either! He wasn't some servant to run into battle and sacrifice himself! He was more than that!"

"I get that. I'm not saying anything on the contrary. I'm just saying... Troops lose men and there's nothing you can do to turn back time and change it."

Tony unleashed an angry snarl. "I'm not a soldier. I'm not marching to Fury's fife."

Steve put his hands up. "Neither am I. He's got the same blood on his hands that Loki does, but right now we gotta put that behind us and get this done. Now Loki needs a power source, if we can put together a list..."

And the fight went on. The Chitauri were unleashed and the Battle of New York began. They fought together, for the first time actually beginning to look like a team. Tony had no idea where Loki was holed up after his fight with Thor, but when the warning from Fury came through about the nuclear missile, Tony knew what he had to do.

"I can close it! Can anybody hear me?" Natasha shouted over the comms. "I can shut the portal down!"

Steve's voice came over the line, yelling urgently, "Do it!"

"No, wait!" Tony shouted back.

"Stark, these things are still coming!"

Tony shook his head, hovering in the suit, watching the nuke as it quickly approached oversea, towards the city. .I got a nuke coming in, it's gonna blow in less than a minute." He glanced upwards towards the portal and began flying towards the missile. "And I know just where to put it."

Steve sounded alarmed. "Stark, you know that's a one way trip."

Tony ignored him. The suit was already on so much low power that he knew he probably wouldn't survive the trip. He grabbed the missile and activated the thrusters, heading upwards towards the portal, power struggling.

JARVIS informed him worriedly, "Sir, we're losing altitude."

"Yeah, I noticed," Tony grunted.

He used the last of the power in his suit and flew straight through the portal. Spotting the Chitauri mothership, he let go of the nuke and, in the last bouts of oxygen-deprived consciousness, he saw through bleary vision the nuke colliding with the ship and the whole structure exploding. He smiled, and then there was darkness.

...


	2. Part 2: Fractured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Wow. Thanks so much for the support guys. Thank you so so much. Here's the next chapter! Hope you enjoy!
> 
> (P.s. Some of that speculation... ;). )

Sir! Sir! You need to regain consciousness! Sir? Emergency Protocol Stark Alpha Thirty-Two, Sir!

He startled into life, and realising he was falling in the suit back to earth, and he had somehow by some miracle escaped the wormhole, he pressed the emergency release button on the suit and the metal retracted around him. Tony fell back into the air and flared his wings out to full span, pulling him up hovering and he watched as the suit crashed towards the distant ground, the Hulk grabbing the suit out of mid-air.

For several minutes, but for him it felt like hours, Tony just simply allowed himself to be held aloft by a warm air current, wind flowing through his black feathers and blue coverts. It was only then when he caught sight of a few black human specks crowded around a red and gold dot on the earth below that he realised that the rest of the Avengers would think he was dead.

He fumbled in his pocket for his spare comm and stuck it in his ear, tapping it twice to activate it.

"Oh god, the suit's empty!" He heard Steve yell.

"Tony!?" Natasha shouted.

"Whoa, guys, calm it for a mo," he muttered into the line, pushing aside their cries of relief. "Head's pounding like Thor's hammer smashed it in, just give me a second."

"Where are you?"

Tony stopped. There was brief silence where the only sound was the loud thwap, thwap, of his wings as they beat rhythmically every few seconds to keep him in the air. What the hell could he say? "Right... That's a little more complicated..."

JARVIS chimed in, "Sir, I believe you should look up."

Tony beat his wings and glanced upwards, startling. The massive bony killer whale things were falling to the ground, dead, and crap, he was right underneath one of them.

Almost instantly, he back flipped into a corkscrew dive, wings plastered to his back and poised like a lethal diving peregrine falcon as he began falling, gravity aiding him, into a vertical dive downwards, reaching over sixty miles per hour easily. At the last moment, he pulled up horizontally and threw his wings out to catch him, streaking past buildings and just managing by ten meters or so to avoid being crushed by the enormous dead beast.

"Stark?! Stark!?" came worried, panicked voices through his comms.

"Shut - up -" he panted. "Almost - crushed - by - alien - dead - killer - whale." He manage to take a few gulpfuls of beautiful fresh air.

"Wait, how are you still in the air if your suit's down here?" Natasha demanded.

Thor agreed, "Aye, my friend. I did not know humans possessed the magic to fly!"

"They don't, Thor," Barton replied shortly.

"Nay, son of Barton. Son of Stark is in the air as we speak!"

Silence and then Barton spluttered, "Okay, what the hell? Tony, you're flying without the suit?"

"Okay, you know how I said it was complicated? This is information best told over several glasses of scotch and a few shots." As he watched the dead whales crashing to the ground, some form of horror came over him, he asked quickly, "Where are you?"

"You mean what street?"

"Yeah."

"Hulk and I are on 15th," Natasha replied. "Barton's up on some building on 14th. Rogers is on 17th I think."

"Crap, crap," Tony whimpered to himself. "Steve. Steve! Get on the comms! You have to move!"

"Stark, what's going on?" Steve finally questioned, sounding tired.

"One of those massive dead whales things is falling towards you, you're gonna get killed! RUN!"

There wasn't enough time. Steve wouldn't be able to run that far in time to get out of the way. Tony flew quickly back up high to get a vantage point. Steve was running, but not fast enough; he was limping slightly and was exhausted. He wasn't going to make it.

Tony had already lost Coulson that day. He wasn't going to lose his new teammate too. Taking a deep shuddering breath, he turned and corkscrewed down, gaining speed and flying so fast he was a complete blur. The sound of whistling air accompanied him as he dived down towards Steve. The whale was barely thirty metres above them and in desperation, Tony began levelling in his descent, so he was aiming towards the super soldier at a rough 40 degree angle, wings flared out completely to full span so he appeared as if he was some sort of avenging angel.

Tony crashed into Steve, holding him to his chest as he turned so his back was facing the ground and collided painfully, agony spiking through his wings. They ground to a halt and the space whale collapsed to the ground, five metres away.

There was a muffled sound and then a soft, "Tony?"

The genius shakily unwrapped himself from Steve and tried to drag himself away, but let out a pained moan before collapsing again, wings spasming. He curled into his chest, one hand holding his arc reactor, but he couldn't move his wings without flinching in agony.

Tony winced at the sound of Steve slowly getting his feet. Then there was a gentle hand, touching his shoulder and then a whispering of, "Holy mother of -."

There was a moment of silence, and then more footstep sounds and few small gasps. Tony closed his eyes and tensed before he heaved himself onto his knees. Standing on wobbly legs and staggering slightly, wings flaring and spreading and tucking to balance him, he turned and was faced with shocked expressions.

"You were right," Natasha said softly.

"What?" Tony croaked.

"I need a glass of scotch."

There was a brush of a hand against his right wing and Tony leapt back, drawing them tight against his frame and glancing about at his teammates with wild eyes. He felt exposed, almost as exposed as he had felt in Afghanistan.

"Hey, I'm sorry," Clint said, raising his hands, trying to seem as non-threatening as possible. "Just needed to make sure they were real."

"Well, they're real," Tony snapped. "Back off, will you?"

"Calm down," Steve tried to placate.

"I'm calm. Of course I'm calm."

"It's okay, Tony."

"NO, IT'S NOT!" Tony yelled, on the verge on hyperventilating. "IT IS NOT OKAY! Nobody was meant to find out! It was meant to be a secret and I just blew it and - I - I think I need to sit down..." He stumbled back to lean heavily against a lamppost. "No, no, no..."

He slid down the post and sat there on the ground, eyes averted, wings trembling and twitching. The Avengers stood awkwardly, not sure what to do.

"I would say tranq him, but that would only make things worse," Clint said in a low voice.

"We need to get him out of sight," Natasha agreed. "I don't think Stark would appreciate Fury locking him up to be experimented on." 

Steve nodded. "SHIELD doesn't need to know about this. If Tony wants to tell anybody, then it's his decision."

"What just happened?" Tony suddenly questioned, glancing upwards towards them. He looked bewildered. He tried to get up but collapsed against the lamppost again, panic and fear vanishing as he shook out and tucked his wings, tertials and tips brushing the ground.

Steve approached from the side and hesitantly placed a hand on Tony's shoulder. He considered it a triumph when Tony didn't flinch, and only winced slightly from his scrapes. "We won."

Tony grunted and used Steve's muscular arm to drag himself to his feet, muttering, "Alright. Hey. Alright. Good job, guys." He waved his hand absently. "Let's just not come in tomorrow. Let's just take a day." He turned to Clint, asking randomly, his voice high-pitched, "Have you ever tried shawarma?"

Clint looked a bit confused by the sudden change of topic from Tony's wings to his stomach. "Um...no..."

Tony staggered away from Steve and accidentally bumped into the Hulk, who huffed heavily, before half-crashing into Natasha, who had to move a full 360 degrees to avoid being smothered by the massive eighteen foot wings.

"There's a shawarma joint about two blocks from here," Tony said, eyes dazed but voice serious, if not partly slurred with exhaustion. "I don't know what it is, but I wanna try it."

"We're not finished yet," Thor rumbled darkly, glancing up towards the Tower, where they all knew Loki was holed up.

Tony glanced at them all and then asked hopefully, "And then shawarma after?"

Thor looked hopelessly at the genius. "Aye, of course, man of iron."

"Great," Tony nodded ecstatically, before he toppled sideways.

"Whoa!" Steve ducked and caught him under the armpits from in front, so the genius was slumped against his chest. "I don't think you're up to doing anything."

"He's most probably going into a state of hysteria due to shock," Natasha said dryly. "Did he bump his head on the way down?"

"Well considering we crashed at least fifty miles per hour, I wouldn't be surprised if he was concussed," Steve scowled at her. He shifted Tony on his chest and began to issue orders: "Thor, Hulk, you two go to the Tower, secure Loki. Romanoff, Barton and I will get Stark somewhere safe and out of sight. We'll deal with SHIELD later."

"But I wanna go with 'em!" Tony whined, his voice muffled by his face against Steve's chest.

But Thor had already begun swinging Mjolnir, soaring off into the air towards Stark Tower, with the Hulk following him from behind, leaping from building to building, roaring.

"I needta go back to the Tower," Tony mumbled against Steve. "Something 'portant."

"What is it?" Steve questioned, leaning the genius into his side rather than having him collapsed against his chest.

"My alcohol," Tony replied.

"Sir, I don't think it would be safe for you to drink in your disorientated state," JARVIS keyed in over the comms, making all of them jump. "I suggest you go with Captain Rogers, Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton."

"But I don't like them," Tony complained.

Natasha rolled her eyes and took hold of Tony's right arm, draping it over her shoulders so she was partially supporting him as she dragged him away. "Come on, Stark."

"Nooooo!" Tony howled. And quick as a flash of lightning, he had taken flight and was on top of a lorry that was lying sideways on the street's pavement. The flight was wonky and his landing was not exactly graceful, but he had escaped Natasha's grasp.

Natasha crossed her arms and scowled, about to make a wily retort, but she stopped dead in her tracks when she realised that Tony Stark was having a mental breakdown on top of a lorry in front of a bunch of strangers that he barely knew. You know, except for the fact he had saved all their lives.

"Okay, I've had enough, I'm tranqing him," Clint muttered, reaching into his quiver to pull out a tiny dart gun, which he began to load.

"No, that won't solve anything," Steve argued. "It could be dangerous if he's concussed."

"It'll only be enough to put him under for an hour or so. Even concussed, he should be fine," Clint reassured him.

"I don't like this," Steve muttered.

"Rogers," Natasha said softly. "It's better than allowing him to suffer. Don't you think? Once he's in a safe place and slept this -" She glanced at the winded genius. "-hysterical state off, then we can talk it out."

Steve stared up at the curled up, shaking genius before he silently nodded and turned away, closing his eyes. Clint pointed the loaded tranquilliser gun discretely at Tony, taking aim, and fired.

The dart whistled through the air and lodged itself into Tony's left thigh. Tony choked and yanked it out, losing his balance and wings flapping frantically as he tried to stop himself from falling off of the lorry side. But his muscles had seized and blackness was creeping into his vision due to the sedative and, unable to control his descent, he toppled.

"Shit, Steve, catch him!" Clint yelled.

Steve wasn't quick enough. Tony crashed into the ground and there was a loud horrible disgusting snap as his right wing caught on the ground. Natasha's hands flew to her mouth, eyes wide as Clint and Steve carefully but quickly turned the unconscious Tony onto his front. His left wing was fine, albeit a bit ragged and ruffled, but his right was hanging at the completely wrong angle, the bone twisted in its socket.

"I told you we shouldn't have done it!" Steve snapped. He started slapping Tony's cheek. "Stark? Stark! Tony?"

"Leave him unconscious, Cap," Natasha advised. "At least that way he won't freak and he's not feeling the pain."

"FYI, I may be called Hawkeye, but I don't know anything about birds," Clint said hurried. "Especially have no knowledge concerning broken wings."

"Okay, we're getting him out of here, quickly," Steve said, glancing about. "I wouldn't usually ask this, but Natasha, could you acquire us a car please?"

Both Clint and Natasha looked up at him. Natasha asked slowly, "Cap, did you just ask me to steal a car?"

"Borrow a car," Steve corrected.

Natasha returned moments later with a black Land Rover; the back seats could be folded down to make a large space stretching through the boot. Natasha stepped out and opened the boot fully before turning back to them.

"All right, I'll take his shoulders. Barton, you take his legs. Romanoff, try to keep his broken wing off of the ground."

They heaved the genius up into the air and began shuffling over to the open boot, trying not to jostle his injuries.

Clint grunted. "How the hell are we gonna get those wings into the boot? They're massive."

"Try and fold his left wing," Steve suggested. "His right should be able to fold slightly, but don't touch the broken bone. Romanoff, you'll need to keep the bone moist."

Clint drove while Steve and Natasha sat in the back, squished together. There was hardly any space; both of them had Tony's black primaries sticking into their sides, and they were like razors. Clint picked his way carefully through fallen cars and debris, avoiding the streets where NYCP were gathered and SHIELD vehicles could be seen; Stark Tower was surrounded by three black helicopters and a Quinjet in the distance.

"Where're we headed?" Steve finally questioned, pouring a little more water from a water bottle he found in the boot onto the feathers surrounding the broken bone.

"Nat and I have a private apartment unknown to SHIELD outside of Manhattan," Clint said. "It's safe, secure, and we have medical supplies there."

"Think you can pick up the pace, Clint?" Natasha asked, Tony's head lolling in her lap as she ran her hands through his hair. "Think he's waking up a bit here."

"Ten minutes, promise," Clint called back.

Ten minutes turned out to be too long. There was a crash of four cars and a flaming taxi on the road that would take them to the street, so they had to drive another block before turning, adding another five minutes onto their time.

Just as Clint turned on the block, heading towards the apartment, the left wing twitched and Tony's head tossed, lips parting in a soft groan of pain before his eyes fluttered open.

"...what..." He croaked, sounding confused and exhausted. He arched his back in a stretch, blurry eyesight trying to focus on the two faces hovering above him, but he instantly paled. "Oh god, that... What..." He started panting. "My wing, what-"

"Stark. Don't move, stay completely still," Natasha ordered calmly, placing a hand on his head to push it down again. "Your right wing is broken. It's a clean, closed right humerus fracture. We're taking you to a secure, safe location where we'll contact Doctor Banner and get you medical attention and painkillers.

"...it hurts..." Tony choked out, agony lacing his voice. "...why is it...it's wet, why..." He tried to lift his head up again, casting desperately looks about, trying to see his broken wing.

Natasha took Tony's skull in her hands and placed it gently back down into the floor, casting one hand through his dark hair. "Stay down, Stark."

"Lemme' see," Tony grunted. "Lemme' see my wing!"

"You're just going to hurt yourself further," Steve soothed him. "Just stay still, Tony."

Natasha gently pressed into the feathers before turning to Steve, requesting more water. The Captain passed the bottle to her and she poured it onto the bone. The sudden weight and wetness of the water startled Tony.

His unbroken left wing immediately snapped out in response and whacked Steve in the face, sending him flying back into the window that gave a terrifying crack. Tony froze and withdrew his wing, revealing Steve looking a little shocked with a broken nose and blood flowing down his face.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Cap," Tony muttered guiltily.

As Clint threw a packet of tissues back, Steve said firmly, "It's fine, Stark. Don't worry about it."

"Those things are strong," Clint wolf-whistled. "And can I just say, friggin' huge."

Natasha caught onto Clint's plan, which happened to be distracting Tony from the pain of the broken bone. "Yes, they must be at least eighteen feet."

Tony glanced at her with groggy eyes. "Eighteen point two," he grunted.

"Really? How'd you measure them?" Steve questioned, his voice muffled and slurred as he tried to stop the blood flowing from his nose and set it with a crack.

Tony paused and stared at both Steve and Natasha with suspicion, looking unsure and untrusting. Finally he admitted, "Pepper and Coulson knew."

"Pepper I'm not surprised about," Natasha replied dryly. "But seriously - Coulson knew? And he didn't inform SHIELD?"

"You start bad-mouthing Phil and you'll piss me off," Tony growled, before inhaling deeply and making a small whine as Steve shifted his knee, jostling the broken wing. "Piss me off and what you'll be dealing with will be ten times worse than Cap's broken nose."

"Cool it, Stark," Steve said, sounding stern, but not only towards Tony. "You shouldn't wind him up, Romanoff. Nobody is insulting Agent Coulson's memory, alright?"

"Guys, we're here," Clint announced, pulling around to the back of the building and parking in an empty space. "Now I guess we have to find a way to get Stark up ten stories and into the penthouse."

"Service lift," Natasha said promptly. "I have a key."

"You have a key to the service lift?" Steve asked, confused.

"Yeah, I stole it from the doorman. I pick-pocket him when he's annoying."

They fully opened the Land Rover and helped Tony stand. The genius whined and groaned, gritting his teeth, as the weight of his wing pulled on the broken bone, but Natasha managed to get her hands underneath to support the bone slightly, ignoring Tony's yelp of pain and then his threatening growl. With Steve and Clint supporting him, they managed to get into the service lift and into the apartment with no major problems.

It was a simple penthouse, with cream walls and plain furniture; wooden tables, two brown leather sofas, a TV, a glass coffee table, a desk, a plain white kitchen. It wasn't lavish or expensive, but was quite large, perhaps big enough for a three-person family. The largest couch unfolded into a double sofa bed, and it was this that Natasha set up carefully, layering with blankets and popping two pillows onto it.

Tony choked in agony as he was lowered onto it on his front, wings splaying out awkwardly behind him. His left unbroken wing hung off the edge of the bed, while his broken right was positioned so it lay supported.

"What do we do now?" Steve asked in a hushed voice.

"In any other situation, I would contact SHIELD control immediately but since this isn't exactly -" Natasha cast a strange look towards Tony -"- A normal situation, then I say we make use of our resources. Set him up an IV, morphine and try to get in touch with the only doctor we know."

"I don't think Dr Banner's technically a medical doctor," Steve replied.

"I'll try to contact Miss Potts, maybe an ornithologist," Clint said. "Nat, I'll need the number."

"Use my phone." Natasha chucked it to him.

Clint went into the kitchen to talk privately while Natasha and Steve started setting up basic medical equipment around a half-conscious, agonised Tony.

"Can you hurry it up there, guys?" Tony gasped, chest heaving and wings trembling in exhaustion. "Painkillers would be appreciated."

"Drama Queen," Natasha muttered, just as she finished setting up the IV line and pushed the needle into the underside of his wrist.

Immediately, a growl erupted and Tony tensed. "What was that?"

"IV. It's saline, to rehydrate. Stop being a big baby." She prepared a needle full of morphine and inspected it before turning and raising an eyebrow.

Tony was craning his neck to catch sight of her, staring at the needle in horror and distrust. "Get that thing away from me."

"Always so polite," Natasha commented. She advanced and as she did so, Tony's left wing snapped out, blocking him from view. "Stark, I'll really not in the mood. I need a shower and a drink. Don't make this harder for yourself." She pinned Tony's left arm and injected the morphine quickly and efficiently. "Better?"

Tony grumbled but mumbled, "Yeah, better."

Clint appeared back in the room, grimacing. He looked like he was straining, hiding the fact that he was stressed and upset. "Guys, appears we have a problem." He switched Natasha's mobile onto speaker phone. "Banner, tell them what you told me."

Bruce's voice came on over the phone. "You sure this is a safe line?" He questioned nervously.

"Yes. What is it, Doctor?"

"Loki's gone. Thor and I took him in relatively easily - probably because of his eight broken ribs, cracked skull and fractured pelvis - and SHIELD had him secured; he wasn't even putting up a fight, and he in fact looked terrified. Then this massive blue wormhole appeared, like the Tesseract one and this purple alien king stepped out, started telepathically and telekinetically torturing Loki, screaming at him for being useless and failing before they both vanished."

"Shit," Tony said, voice muffled, glancing up at them all. "This purple dude have a name?"

"Yes. Thanos. Thor recognised it and is being debriefed by SHIELD before he'll head back to Asgard with the Tesseract. It seems your theory was right, Mr Stark."

"Theory?" Clint questioned.

"I had a theory that Loki was being controlled by the Glowstick of Destiny, just like you were," Tony told him, wincing as he shifted his wing. "I mean, come on, you saw him back at that R&D facility. He looked worse than those guys who came straight out of Nazi concentration camps."

"I'm back where Tony and Steve crashed; where are you?"

Natasha rattled off the address with ease. "You might want to hurry, Doctor. We've got a casualty."

Tony gave a bark of bitter laughter. "No kidding."

"What sort of casualty?" Bruce questioned, alarmed.

"Broken right wing," Natasha informed him. "Closed, clean. Just needs to be set, plastered and bound, I think."

"Whoa, wait, what?!" Tony squeaked from the bed, trying to heave himself onto his forearms. "Nobody said anything about binding! There was no binding mentioned at any point!"

"You're not going to be flying on that wing for a while," Steve said, giving a faint smile.

Tony twisted on the bed, an obvious sweat breaking out on his forehead. "Okay, I have issues concerning being tied up. Like, major issues."

"Well, Miss Potts will be here to hold your hand the entire time," Clint told him with a wry grin. "Her plane's turned around and is landing in the safest airport, and she's heading straight here."

Tony went completely red. "I hate you, Legolas," he muttered. "You called Pep?"

"Of course. She's your girlfriend, and the only one who knows about your wings," Clint said, sounding puzzled at why Tony wouldn't want Pepper to be with him.

Tony flushed and opened his mouth to reply, but instead gave a loud yelp and a wolf-like snarl, right wing twitching weakly and left wing stretching out before giving a few large flaps, sending papers flying and nearly whacking Steve in the face again. Natasha had come up behind him while he was distracted and injected him with some colourless liquid.

Clint jumped back, barely avoiding being sent sprawled over the floor by one massive black and blue wing. It clipped his head however, so when he stood up again, slightly wobbly, he had a five inch molted midnight tertial in his mouth and an electric blew secondary stuck in his hair. He spat the feather out.

"He should calm down in a minute," Natasha told them seriously. "It was a mild sedative to knock him out for a few hours. It'll give Dr Banner enough time to get here, treat the wing and have it secured before Stark wakes up again."

Tony gave a feeble heart-wrenching wail, blankets twisting in his hands and back arching at an awkward angle. The crazily beating left wing crumpled against the floor and his muscles seized, rendering him useless and defenceless. Tony hazily blinked as the darkness beckoned him, before he succumbed to the welcoming black.

......

Tony awoke with a scream. He had had another vivid nightmare but this time, his tormenters had different faces. Instead of the Ten Rings ripping out his feathers or Obadiah brutally violating him, he had fallen from the black hole half-dead, mocked by the Avengers for his horrible, fraying wings and carted off to be experimented on by SHIELD.

Pepper rushed towards him and sat down, cascading shaking fingers through his sweaty dark hair and whispering soothing words to him as he tried to catch his breath and calm down.

After a moment of heavy breathing and his head gently being stroked by the one he truly trusted, Tony groaned at the torturous ache of his wing muscles and stretched them. Well, tried to stretch them. His left wing spread out completely, but he found himself unable to even twitch his right. Tony's mouth went completely dry and alarm bells kicked off in his head.

"Please tell me you didn't," he choked at Pepper.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, we had to, it was the only way to secure the bone safely, I'm sorry," Pepper hushed, still stroking his head, jumping onto the bed to sit by him and half-cradle him to her chest.

Tony struggled to turn over. "Lemme' up," he grunted, twisting out of Pepper's arm, left wing turning and angling so he could balance, but he almost fell over without his right wing able to compensate. "Lemme' up, I needta see."

"Tony, you shouldn't -" Pepper went still at Tony's desperate face.

Tony scrambled off of the bed and to the nearest mirror, which just happened to be full-height and wide enough so he could see half his wingspan. He turned and carefully inspected the bandages. One of his old harnesses he had used to strap his wings to his back when he was younger had been adapted and made comfier and looser, and it only held his casted right wing. It wasn't entirely comfortable, but it would do.

He breathed out. "So, where are we?"

"Malibu. You probably don't recognise it because it's one of the guest rooms. It was the nearest one to the door." Pepper strode up behind him and placed a hesitant hand on his left arm's elbow. "Do you remember what happened?"

"Broke wing, went to Team BlackHawk's super secret apartment, Natashalie attacked me and knocked me out." Tony's head shot around and their eyes met. "So where are our favourite assassins?"

"Natasha and Clint are back at SHIELD being debriefed. Steve and Bruce are eating breakfast." She cracked a smile. "JARVIS seems quite taken with them. You might have two new flat-mates by the end of the day."

"Okay, one, this isn't a flat and two," he paused and cast a low look towards Pepper. "Are you sure this is..."

Pepper rolled her eyes. Grabbing a dressing gown with sewn in slits in the back, she threw it at him. It landed on his head and Tony pulled it off, disgruntled. Pepper stared at him pointedly before sashaying out of the room. Tony hesitated; pulling on the dressing gown and shaking his left wing out carefully, he slipped down the grand staircase into the living area warily.

Steve and Bruce were munching on toast respectively, watching CNN that was playing news reports repeating footage from the battle of New York. The journalist was currently commentating on a big black shape that had suddenly appeared and was swooping down towards the Avengers.

"They think it was an eagle," Steve said, and he had noticed Tony standing on the last step of the stairs in the corner of his eye. "They're saying that was one hell of a lucky eagle."

Tony huffed. "Eagle, my ass. I'm way cooler than an eagle." He tilted his head at the screen and grinned. "Hey, look, they got my good side."

"You have a good side?" Bruce asked, unimpressed.

"Yeah. Both of 'em." Tony turned to Bruce, more serious and said awkwardly, "Thanks for...you know. The thing. I appreciate it."

"No problem," Bruce responded, standing and smiling, empty plate in hand. "Pepper helped a lot. It seems she had experience in the broken wing area. It wasn't the humerus last time, but the knowledge still helped."

Steve couldn't help but snicker. "You slammed your own wing in a door."

"I was drunk, hadn't slept for forty eight hours and all I had eaten was a bag of Confused Skittles. Sue me." Tony scowled and took the super black coffee Pepper offered him. "So yeah, we had an idea what to do if it happened again. Just as well, cos I wasn't going through that fiasco again. Took us two damn near five hours to get the bone set. Hurt like hell."

"Tony," Bruce said gently. "I contacted a vet friend of mine. I told her about the wing break, said it was an eagle, and she said... She said birds don't usually fly ever again after a humerus break like that."

Tony stared at him for a moment before bursting out laughing. Pepper looked like she was giggling as well. The genius had to actually sit down and put his coffee down he was laughing so hard.

"Aw, man." Tony wiped tears from his eyes. "That's hilarious, she actually said that?"

"...Yes..." Bruce responded, looking confused and alarmed at their reaction.

"That was great. I haven't laughed that hard in ages." Tony picked up his coffee and sipped from it. "So your pal was a nerdy birdy person. I'm not judging her. I'm just saying that wow, she's an idiot. I'll be flying on these babies in 'round two weeks or so, don't you worry your little brain 'bout that."

"...but she said -"

"Bruce, do I look like a bird to you?" Tony raised his arms and raised an eyebrow.

Bruce eyed the wings. "Yes."

"Human," Tony pointed at himself. "Human body. Birdy wings. Trust me when I say they'll he healed in two weeks."

Steve switched the TV off by remote and asked curiously, "So how did you hide them before? We couldn't see them, so I presume you did something."

A wide grin split Tony's face and he preened. "I'm the only human on earth able to control a parallel dimension. It's not visible to the human eye, but runs right alongside this dimension, so I can hide my wings it it. Have a theory that if I can get my whole body it, I can turn invisible. Cool, huh? I called it the Etheric Dimension."

Bruce looked fascinated. "Can you go all the way into it? So you vanish? Can you show me?"

Smirking, Tony reached for his wings and the entrance to the Etheric Dimension. He was able to see the wavering, quivering opening and the pure white light it emitted, but as soon as he tried to stick his wings into it, he rebounded and was forced out.

"Aw, crap," he muttered. He raised his head and called loudly, "PEPPER, IT'S MOLTING WEEK."

Bruce and Steve exchanged bewildered glances. "Molting week?"

Pepper snuck up behind Tony, resting her chin on his left shoulder and winding one spread hand into the blue coverts on his unbound wing. "Every four weeks, Tony's wings become visible and he can't hide them. He just molts a few feathers and grows a few new ones." She frowned. "Although, you haven't had a full molt for years."

Tony explained to Bruce and Steve, "The last time I had a proper, full molt, it lasted for two weeks. It's just to replace all old feathers with new ones. My last complete molt was after Afghanistan."

"Well, I'm afraid I'm not here for this molt. I've got a conference in Madrid to go to. I'm away on a business meeting 'tour' for around a months. The plane leaves tonight." Pepper pecked him on the cheek, taking his empty coffee mug.

Tony's mood instantly changed. "What?"

"I'm sure Bruce and Steve will stay here with you," Pepper assured him as she vanished out of the room.

Tony shuffled nervously, wings twitching. Steve and Bruce seemed to notice his uneasiness and strode forwards so they were standing next to him, Steve placing one hand on Tony's shoulder.

"You don't mind if we bunk here for a while, do you?" Bruce questioned.

"Hmm? Oh, course not," Tony muttered.

"Is this molting...a big thing?" Steve asked hesitantly. "Private or something?"

Tony shook his head, looking down at the floor and scuffing his shoe. "Not really. It's just it was always Pepper and Phil who helped me." He cast mournful eyes down to his bare feet.

"It must be hard," Steve said softly, "Losing somebody you were so close to. But we both understand what that's like, Tony." He shared a glance with Bruce. "We don't think any less of you. We want to help you."

"Pepper told us about your past," Bruce told him gently. "She thought it would be too painful for you to tell us yourself. It's a miracle you're still alive, Tony." He gave a small sympathetic smile. "I'm so sorry about what happened in Afghanistan and with your father."

"Why're you apologising? There wasn't anything you could do to stop it," Tony replied, scoffing and looking away.

"That doesn't mean we didn't want to stop it." Steve held his arms out and approached.

Tony backed off. "Er, I'm not really a hugging sort of - UMPH!" He was squished by Steve's massive arms and embraced tightly. His unbound wing was poised awkwardly behind him. "Right, thanks, Cap, that's fantastic. Thanks... You can let go now." Once he had been released, his left wing bristled and shifted. "So, where's Thunderboy and the Assassins Duet?"

"Thor went back to Asgard last night. Natasha and Clint are back at SHIELD base," Steve answered. "Fury thinks they might have a lead on Loki and Thanos. He's managed to contact Dr Strange and Professor Xavier. They're working with Dr Foster to track Loki's magical energy signal."

"Right. JARVIS, wiggle your way into SHIELD systems and keep me updated."

"Of course, Sir. Might I say it's a delight to see you up on your feet again."

"Aw. You're making me blush, Jay," Tony winked up at the ceiling. He rubbed his hands together. "Now, who wants coffee?"

"You just had a cup," Bruce reminded him.

He sauntered over to the kitchen, grabbing a fresh mug. "Can't start work without three cups of caffeine in the morning," Tony said brightly. He patted the extremely-advanced technical coffee machine fondly. "Ain't that right, Colette?"

The coffee machine's LEDs lit up and it beeped excitedly, little dials whirring and turning. Bruce and Steve's eyes went as round as plates as the little sentient coffee machine purred as Tony petted it.

"Okay," Bruce said. "You have an AI coffee machine."

"Why am I not surprised?"

......

Three days later, Tony awoke groaning. Pain spiked in his back and his wings were aching terribly. Grunting he tried to roll over onto his side to avoid accidentally lying on his bound, broken wing, but he failed epically and instead ended up sprawled on the cold floor, whimpering under his breath. He dragged himself up onto his elbows and flared his right wing out to determine how far into his molting he was.

He froze.

Ten minutes later when Steve rushed in, as JARVIS had woken him to tell him Tony was experiencing something similar to a panic attack. Steve was complete in a American flag dressing gown, his blonde hair tussled and spiky from sleep, and the floor crunched as he took his first step into the room. He looked down.

Black feathers littered the floor. In spots of the midnight blanket, there were one or two blue feathers. Tony was sitting motionless on the floor in front of a mirror his black left wing spread out entirely.

Except his wing was no longer black.

There were still patches of black feathers and one or two blue coverts that had yet to molt, but the wings had changed. Instead of black feathers, the wings were now a sea of intermixing crimson red and glimmering gold, and the gold feathers shone in the light. The feathers were recently grown, itchy and short, and they were tangled together. It was beautiful, breath-taking and stunning.

Tony didn't seem to think so. He took a stuttering breath and closed his eyes. Steve knelt beside him and helped him to his feet, leading him away from the mirror.

"They're not black," Tony said simply, seemingly in shock. "They're not black anymore."

"No, they're not," Steve agreed. "Now, we are going to go and find Bruce and we will eat doughnuts, drink coffee and watch British TV."

"Steve." Tony stopped walking and bent down, picking up a handful of dull, greyish feathers. "My feathers. I need the feathers."

"Alright," Steve agreed helplessly. "I'll go get a binbag. We'll collect the feathers, Tony."

The feathers drifted down from Tony's hand. He bent down again and carefully selected the blue coverts that were still relatively intact. He handed the first one to Steve and stared at him, as if challenging him to try and give it back.

When they got downstairs an hour later, he thrust a blue covert into Bruce's hand when they had a Harry Potter movie marathon. "Keep it," Tony told him. "It represents the person I was before I met you, and shows how much you guys have changed my life."

"It's a beautiful colour," Bruce observed, turning it over in his hands. He glanced upwards curiously. "Would you mind if I took a few from the binbag? Just to compare the biological structure to that of a bird's feather."

Tony shrugged, sending a shudder down his spine when a few more black feathers drifted down, leaving an even clearer scarlet-gold behind. "Sure. I'm just gonna burn them anyway."

Steve whipped around from where he was trying to put new batteries into the TV remote (and failing). "Burn them?" He repeated, alarmed.

"Well they're not any use to me now, are they?" Tony replied, slightly annoyed. His gaze softened slightly. "Coulson liked to collect them. He said he was going to make an entire wing out of my molted feathers. So when I molt, I collect them so he can...so he can..."

He trailed off. He bowed his head. He left.

......

A week after the battle, Natasha and Clint returned. Fury had ordered all of the Avengers (excluding Thor, who had returned to Asgard) to be housed in Tony's Malibu home until the Tower was repaired, which would take a month or so.

As they approached the front door, JARVIS greeted them, "Good afternoon, Agent Romanoff, Agent Barton. Welcome to Tony Stark's Malibu home. Automatic defence and security systems will scan you for SHIELD bugs when entering the residence."

Once they were cleared, Steve opened the door to them. "Come in. Bruce was just giving Tony an examination. I think you'll want to see this."

"Stark getting on his nerves?" Natasha questioned wryly.

"Not nearly as much as he should be," Steve replied, leading them through the house towards the living room. "Natasha and Clint are here-"

"JESUS!" Clint yelped as soon as he saw Tony's wings.

Tony was seated on a high bar stool, and Bruce had unravelled the binding, cast and bandages on his broken wing and had both of them flared out to full wingspan, so all eighteen feet filled the room. The last few black and blue feathers had fallen out, and left behind was the beautiful, stunning pattern of interwoven crimson and gold feathers, that glittered under the sharp light. They towered above the Avengers' heads intimidatingly, but Tony was being anything but intimidating; he was staring down at his feet, licking his dry lips and concentrating.

Tony looked up at Clint's exclamation and a grin split his face. "Hey, look, Team Blackhawk are back from the dog house. How's it over with Mr Pirate Guy?"

"Not nearly as interesting as is it here, I assure you," Natasha responded, eyes raking over the golden and red feathers. "So this is a welcome change. Red and gold? I didn't think you could get anymore obnoxious."

"You know you adore me really," Tony said cheekily. 

"Stay still," Bruce ordered. "You keep jolting your broken wing."

"I am staying still," Tony retorted. "You just keep prodding - OW! Okay, ow, ow, oww." The genius grunted and tried to push Bruce away, right broken wing shaking and the other twitching. He tried to stand, but ended up falling off balance.

Clint laughed. "Yep, this is way more interesting than SHIELD debriefs."

Bruce narrowed his eyes slightly but was unable to hide his faint smirk as he shoved Tony back down onto the chair.

Tony gave a low growl. "Did you do that on purpose?"

"Of course not," Bruce replied, offended. "You're my patient, I would never harm you intentionally." But his eyes were twinkling.

"Ha ha," Tony deadpanned, wincing as the fractured bone was touched again. "So how's it healing?"

"Very well, actually," Bruce admitted. "You were right in the fact it would be mostly healed in two weeks. I think it's secure enough that we can keep it unbound with the splint on."

Tony punched the air and whooped. "Yes! No more restraining back braces for me! I'm free!"

"Not entirely," Steve corrected. "We'll be keeping a close eye on you. So much as flap that wing and then it's back into the brace."

Tony pouted. "Aw, and here I thought you guys liked me."

"We do like you," Natasha said. "And we care about your health." She smiled sweetly. "So that's why JARVIS will be alerting us if you try to do anything exerting with that wing. Isn't that right, JARVIS?"

There was hesitation, but JARVIS responded after moment, "I do believe Agent Romanoff has the best plan of action."

"Traitor!" Tony yelled.

"Apologies, Sir. But it would do you no good to try and fly on your broken wing and end up even more incapacitated."

Tony grumbled. "I hate it when you're logical."

He stood and continued to whinge as Bruce attached a splint onto the broken humerus bones humming Metallica under his breath. When Bruce stepped away, he carefully scrutinised the splint on his right wing, nose wrinkling and eyes skittering over it like when a cat examines a new object in its home. After a moment, he seemed to deem it alright and turned towards the Avengers again.

"Okay," Tony said seriously. "The battle's ended, we've been debriefed and all injuries are accounted for.

"Now, can we go get shawarma?"

......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I was wondering if anybody wanted to do any art for the fic? Tony and his wings?
> 
> Chapter 3 is written and being edited. Please comment and click that little button below!
> 
> :D Love you guys!


	3. Part 3: Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello citizens of AO3! Welcome to Part 3. I appreciate all your comments, kudos, bookmarks Ect and I love you all. I hope you enjoy this chapter.
> 
> Okay, and I admit I need help. I have a picture of some art I want to upload but I have no freakin' clue how to do it. So please, send help. :\
> 
> And also, I have written another story for this 'verse! I will not explain now, because you will not understand until you have read Part 4. So yes.
> 
> \--> Next - I need help with a name for this 'Verse. And Names for other stories in this 'Verse. And should I do Iron Man 3 and CA:TWS or not? HELP ME PEOPLE, PLEASE.
> 
> *coughs* And onto story...

"Bruce."

...

"Bruuucceee."

...

"Bruuuuuccceeee, wake upppp!"

Bruce turned over in his bed pulled the duvet over his head. Somebody prodded him sharply in the side. The doctor sighed and pushed the covers off of him, blinking blearily up at the ecstatic winged genius staring down at him. He glanced sideways at his bedside clock.

"Tony, it's half four in the morning."

"It's been two weeks!" Tony said excitedly, eyes shining and left wing rustling. "You said you would take the cast off!"

"Not at half four in the morning. I'm not doing it now. Go back to sleep."

Tony's face fell so he resembled a kicked puppy. He shuffled on his feet and looked down, wings drooping. Bruce couldn't leave him disappointed like that. He clambered heavily out of bed and Tony cheered.

As Bruce was splitting the cast in the living room, Steve staggered in, still half-asleep, his American flag dressing gown twisted around his body and his shield being lugged behind him.

"What's going on? Are we being attacked?" He asked lazily, giving a massive yawn.

"Tony saw fit to wake me up at half four to get his cast off," Bruce explained.

An arrow flew past and imbedded itself it the top half of the sofa. Clint kicked the vent above their heads open and glared down at them. "Not appreciated."

"Brrruuuccee, get it offff!" Tony whined.

Bruce finally separated the cast and released Tony's wing. He rolled his shoulders experimentally and shook his wings out so the full eighteen span was arching and spreading and folding, sighing in relief. Clint wolf-whistled as Tony gave two great flaps, sending a cold breeze throughout the room. He rushed towards the folding glass doors leading towards the cliffs and beach.

"Whoa, where're you going?" Steve questioned, catching Tony by his shoulders and turning him around.

"Flying. Where'd you think?" Tony tugged his shoulder away, wings twitching and quivering in his excitement.

"What, right now?" Clint asked, hanging upside down from the vent.

"Yes, right now," Tony hissed, prancing about like a race horse fresh and ready to gallop. "I have been locked up for two weeks. I need to fly!"

"Locked up is a bit harsh," Steve commented.

"But accurate," Tony sassed back. "Look, my wing's fine, it just needs to be exercised. Perfect way to do that is just to go for a little flight."

Bruce looked unsure. He made Tony stand in the centre of the living room and fan his wings out, checking the bone and the joint and massaging the tendons, straightening any feathers as he went. Clint dropped down from the vents onto one of the couches just as Bruce stepped back and shrugged.

"I don't see anything wrong with it," he said finally. "But you should be careful and don't over exert yourself. And let's wait until Natasha's awake and do it after breakfast, alright?"

"Fine," Tony agreed sulkily, but he was beaming on the inside, because he knew that it wouldn't be long before he was up in the air again.

It turned out Natasha was up anyway and had gone out on an early morning sprint around the property, so when she arrived back at half six she found the Avengers gathered in the kitchen making waffles and pancakes. It seemed that Bruce had taken charge and ordered Tony to go and sit at the table and not touch anything as his massive wings kept on knocking things over and whacking Clint and Steve in their faces.

"So how fast can you fly, Stark?" Natasha questioned dryly as she delicately cut up her waffle and then stabbed it with her fork.

Tony paused in thought. "I think the highest JARVIS has ever recorded is somewhere in the low nineties."

"Approximately ninety three point four miles per hour, Sir. This was recorded on 12th July 2010 during a corkscrew vertical."

"Hmm, yeah, I remember that. Wasn't that the day I crashed into the ocean, came back dripping wet and Pepper had to blow-dry my wings?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good times," Tony said sarcastically. He picked up his empty plate and put it on the rack. "Okay, I've eaten. Can I fly now?"

"Wait until we're finished," Clint responded, sounding annoyed.

"Fine. Then I guess I'll just have to get Colette to make me more coffee." Tony patted the little AI coffee machine fondly and she beeped loudly, vibrating.

All at once, Bruce, Steve and Clint all leapt up and shouted, horrified, "NO!"

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "I'm guessing I missed something."

Clint shuddered. "You do not wanna be around him after he's had coffee, that's all I'm saying."

"So are you coming or am I gonna have to drink another cup of coffee for you to come to your senses?" Tony asked, pointing to the coffee machine with one hand and behind him outside with the other.

Steve stuffed the last of his waffle into his mouth before gathering the empty plates and dirty cutlery. "Let's all get changed and meet out here in ten minutes. We're coming, Tony."

"If only to make sure you don't kill yourself," Clint muttered.

They piled the used plates up on the sink and rack before they all quickly got dressed into casual wear. When they arrived in the living room, Tony was pacing around the couch in a black thermal suit, his gold and red wings unable to keep still, constantly moving.

He was buzzing with excitement as they exited the house, the fresh morning air lifting them out of their damp spirits and refreshing them. Tony led them to a cliff, where he clambered up onto a jutting out rock which had an amazing view of the glistening, churning sea.

"Are you sure this is safe?" Natasha questioned, sounding slightly bored.

But Tony didn't answer. He was leaning into the sea breeze, hair tousled and his wings pulled out to full span, the wind flowing through his feathers and catching, lifting them upwards so they puffed out completely. It looked magnificent and majestic and all of the Avengers inhaled sharply.

"Wow," Bruce said softly, for it was definitely something of awe.

"Prepare to see some real flying skills, ladies and gents," Tony called out. "You won't be seeing something like this again, so pay close attention."

"I doubt you could barrel roll, Stark," Natasha commented, pursing her lips. "You have about as much co-ordination as a drunk giraffe."

"You saw him the Battle," Steve reminded her. "He was pretty good, I'd say. But if you truly want to impress us Tony, you'll have to go beyond a few zigzag turns and loop the loops."

"We're hard to please," Clint added, flashing his teeth.

Tony turned and tucked his wings, grinning cheekily and giving a little salute. "Don't wait up for me," he said, before he dived head first off of the cliff side.

Steve, Bruce, Clint and Natasha immediately moved forwards, kneeling on the cliff and gazing downwards. Something akin to panic and shock glassed over Steve and Bruce's faces as Tony didn't pull up or level out.

Tony was diving vertically down the edge of the cliff, wings poised artfully and whooping in glee. Barely ten metres from the water, his wings shot out fully and pulled him upwards, but Tony had angled himself so his body skimmed the water, creating a symmetrical wake as he soared along the ocean's foam.

He gave one large powerful flap - and twisted his whole body and looped through a rising splash of water. Heaving himself higher into the clouds with a few trusted wingbeats, he paused with his back facing the ground and his wings flared, and fell, wings buffeting for a moment, before he twisted and corkscrewed downwards again.

"Gotta admit, he's cool," Clint confessed, standing.

"We were worrying about nothing," Bruce said, smiling as he watched Tony make a swift flip for the third time. "He's a natural."

"HEY, STARK!" Clint yelled out, cupping his mouth to make the sound travel further. "Give me a Cuban Eight, an inside loop and a zoom climb!" He turned to the Avengers and smirked. "He'll never be able to do it. It's technically challenging to even advanced dogfighters, I doubt he'd -" He cut off.

Tony had began his loops of the Cuban Eight, flapping and beating his wings; a lethal red and gold Phoenix hawk, swooping and soaring. Clint's jaw dropped as he executed it perfectly, rounding off into a wide inside loop.

Natasha looked shocked as well, glancing at her partner. "You don't really think he can -"

The inside loop ended into a steep zoom climb, before the massive red and gold wings stalled in their flapping and Tony back flipped down into a barrel roll, spinning midair before levelling off, heading back towards the cliff.

Clint's eyes were wide. Under his breath, he muttered an awed, "Whoa..."

Tony swooped back down towards them and, beating his wings rhythmically, he landed steadily. He was not even out of breath, just grinning ear to ear.

"How's that for flying skills?" Tony bragged.

Natasha stuck her hand out, her jaw set. Tony's eyes were drawn to it and he eyed it suspiciously. After a moment, he shook it, and it seemed to be sincere.

"I have utter respect for you as a pilot," Natasha told him.

"Not technically a pilot," Tony said, giving a lopsided grin. "Took me a while to figure how to put those moves into practise with my wings, but I worked it out."

"It was impressive," Steve informed him, smiling. "Very impressive. We are impressed."

"Good," Tony replied, stepping closer to them and shaking his wings to straighten his feathers, glancing at his watch. "You were meant to be. How 'bout we head back to the house and then I treat you all to lunch."

"Won't people see your wings?" Clint questioned.

Tony winked and then suddenly, the wings vanished with a brief flash of white light. The Avengers all startled and stared, bewildered, at a suddenly wingless Tony Stark. Clint stared and opened his mouth, but ended up just muttering to himself that he wasn't even going to ask. Steve and Natasha managed to hide their confusion and shock and hide it behind carefully placed masks.

"That's incredible," Bruce breathed. He waved his hand around the place Tony's wings had been. "Really, truly incredible. The scientific variables can't even be -"

"Much as I enjoy being your science bro, Bruce," Tony interrupted, "I think we should leave the parallel dimension physics for later and instead go get some chow. I'm starving."

"We just ate," Natasha said shortly.

"Yeah, and I just flew," Tony shot back. "Flying takes up energy. Energy is from food. Ipso facto, I need food. Who's up for lunch?"

"Lunch?"

Tony swirled in place and pointed at them.

"Shawarma."

.......................................................

At around half eleven, they headed off towards the nearest shawarma joint JARVIS could find, which just so happened to be on the other side of Malibu. They took the Quinjet that Fury had assigned to the Avengers, Clint piloting, and landed it on a nearby empty rooftop before climbing down fifty seven flights of stairs to the ground.

They had just entered the shawarma joint when Clint's SHIELD mobile began to ring insistently. Clint stopped and fished it out, looking unsure as he fingered it.

"Answer it," Steve suggested. "They might be calling to thank us."

"Fury never thanks us," Clint muttered. He answered the mobile, turning away. "Agent Barton. Yes, sir. Yes, sir. ...What? I'm sorry, could you repeat that? ...And again, sir? ...Are you certain, sir? ...Sir... Alright, sir, we'll be there as soon as we can. Agent Barton, out." He put the phone away and grimaced.

"Don't say it," Tony said.

"I've gotta say it," Clint replied.

"Don't say it!" Tony repeated through gritted teeth.

"The Avengers have been called to assemble. There's a massive magically-engineered man-eating eagle creature attacking citizens of New York. Fury believes it was made by Doctor Doom, but since the Fantastic Four are AWOL in Europe somewhere, he's calling us in."

The Avengers all froze. Slowly, they all turned to Clint, and he could see the frustration, anger and exasperation on their faces.

Then Tony said, "Okay, giant predatory magical bird? That is something I wanna see."

.....................................................

 

"What the hell is that thing?"

They were all in the main conference room of the helicarrier, watching security footage and mobile footage that had been scrapped together of the huge monster. It was a huge vulture like creature, with massive blue, grey and black wings, a red beak, beady eyes and sharp, lethal talons that were wide enough to snatch up a small car.

"From what we're able to gather, it's a Argentavis magnificens," Hill provided. "An ancient predatory hunting bird from Argentina in the Late Miocene Period."

"Argentina?" Bruce repeated. "How'd it get up here then?"

"We have no idea," Hill replied. "They've been extinct for millions of years. The only possible explanation is that Doctor Doom must have recreated or reanimated it with stolen magic."

Natasha seemed to be breaking the footage down in front of them, crossing her arms and questioning, "Height? Wingspan? Diet?"

"This one looks to be just over two metres," Hill answered. "With a wingspan of seven metres; twenty three feet. And it's diet... Not good. It snatches live prey from the ground. Flightless prey."

"So humans are easy pickings," Tony finished for her. "Made with magic, I get, but you said the actual thing is magical?"

"That friggin' bird is invulnerable. Damn thing won't die," Fury fumed, slamming his hands down in the desk, his one eye glaring at the screen. "Arrows, bullets, even a friggin' self-containing missile didn't take it down."

"Yeah, that sounds like something magic would do," Tony muttered. "I hate magic."

"Then there's this -"

Hill beamed up a new video from her iPad. It was time stamped that morning and on the very outskirts of New York's north side. This one showed the giant ancient bird diving down, talons outstretched to grab at a poor unsuspecting woman who was walking to work. At that moment, a SHIELD Quinjet swooped in and started firing at the bird. The Quinjet pitched sideways, obviously trying to lure the bird away, but the bird completely ignored the jet and went on to pierce its talons into the screaming woman's shoulders and carry her off.

"It's not attacking anything with technology," Natasha said. "Drones, Quinjets, missiles... It doesn't bother it. It only chases or hunts things of biological origin."

"But we need something up in the air, to keep that thing away from the ground," Hill nodded, crossing her arms and bowing her head slightly. "So unless we have something or somebody that can naturally fly without any technology of any kind, New York is -"

"-basically screwed," Clint finished. He ignored the disapproving look Fury sent him. "Looks like the Iron Man suit'll be useless this time," Clint mused. "Sorry, Stark."

But Tony was staring at the screen, his eyes hooded and dark. His fists were clenched slightly and he looked uneasy. Taking a deep breath, he rubbed his knuckles together, rolling his right shoulder and then his left. He turned to Fury. "How fast can you get an evacuation order out?"

"Ten minutes or so," Hill replied for him. "It'll take maybe half an hour to get the area emptied. Why?"

"I think I have an idea," Tony said in a low voice.

Steve realised instantly. "No. Are you joking? You only just got back into the air."

"I'm not seeing any other option here, Steve," Tony hissed back at him.

"Stark," Natasha said, drawing his attention. "You do realise that this would expose your...position...to SHIELD. They would be no going back."

"I know," Tony growled back at her, steely. "But I can't just do nothing and let that thing kill innocent people." He turned to Fury. "You've gotta trust me on this. I know what I'm doing. Get the evac. order out and the Avengers will deal with it."

Fury stared at him coldly for a moment, before he tilted his head at Hill. "Hill, get the order out."

"Sir?"

"Do as Mr Stark says." He pointed at Tony, jabbing a sharp finger at him. "I am going on a whim here, and it is a damn stupid whim, thinking that you actually have some sort of idiotic, shit plan. Better not mess this up, Stark."

And for once, Tony didn't smirk and sass back with some sarcastic comment. Instead, he gazed back with solemn, cold eyes and replied steadily and firmly, "Don't interfere. Don't butt in. I won't mess this up, Fury. For the first time ever, I can properly promise you that."

"You sure you wanna put that weight on your shoulders?"

"Nothing else I can put on them."

..........................................................

The whole North section of New York had been evacuated and sectioned off by the NYPD and SHIELD agents. It was a clear perimeter, and had Quinjets stationed at points around the area. Hill had linked into their comms and ear pierces so she could give them regular updates on the Argentavis' position. It was currently perched on some high skyscraper off on the east side, screeching and flapping massive black, grey and blue wings.

"You don't have to do this," Steve told Tony.

Clint and Natasha were in a Quinjet that was hovering about, and were prepared to offer air support if needed. Tony had sent Bruce off with a massive notebook full of variables about magic and Asgardian biology, and instructions on how to make a magic-neutralising super-tranquilliser. Bruce had informed them that it would take about an hour to synthesise with SHIELD's help, and so the Avengers, excluding Bruce and Thor, had left the scientists on the helicarrier to work. Meaning that Tony was tasked with keeping the Argentavis occupied and distracted for an hour.

Steve was escorting Tony up to a building a few blocks across from where 'Argie', as Tony had dubbed the ancient bird, was nesting. They were currently standing in the elevator, standing awkwardly next to each other, Steve in his Captain America suit with his shield in hand and Tony in a black thermal suit.

"I have to," Tony replied quietly. "I feel like I have to. Besides, this is the only thing that'll work."

"We're not sure that-" Steve cut himself off. "You're revealing your secret to the whole of SHIELD. SHIELD may be stopping it from reaching the public, but they'll have footage and evidence themselves. Are you sure-"

"You know, I really want to punch you right now," Tony interrupted tersely. "If only to make you shut up. I'm not sure, okay? I'm freakin' terrified. And you can tell because I'd never usually admit that, but I'm actually so terrified that I'm not bothered about admitting it."

They had reached the end of their elevator ride. Steve and Tony walked side by side out onto the rooftop, the cold breeze ruffling their suits and hair. Tony gazed down at the large, daunting drop before him and his breath stuttered. The Quinjet was flying and hovering a short distance away, it's onboard camera facing their way.

Natasha come on over the comms. "You ready, Stark?"

"Is Fury watching?" Tony asked, his voice not nearly as strong as he would have liked.

"You're on every main screen on the helicarrier," Clint informed, and Tiny could imagine his wry grin. "Congrats on breaking box office records."

"I'm only really worried about overnight and weekend figures." Tony gulped and closed his eyes. "I'm ready. Start the clock."

01:00:00.

00:59:54. 

Tony released his wings from the parallel dimension. The shining gold and crimson wings flared and spread out. In one leap, he dove off of the top of the skyscraper, into to three-quarter vertical dive, wings held in the optimum position for gaining speed, before he flared his wings again and pulled up into a zoom climb, performing a few fast vertical turns around buildings before levelling off to soaring.

"Tony, it's moving again," Natasha warned him. "Around ten, fifteen meters East of you. It's taken flight; I think it's going off to hunt. You'll need to get its attention."

"On it," Tony barked, performing a barrel and then a snap roll so he vertically swerved back towards Argie. "That thing has wings- let's see if it can use 'em."

Tony observed from afar, watching as the ancient bird struggled around the corners and wasted its energy by flapping. "It isn't very fast - isn't flying at all, I would say, more like soaring."

"Remember. Your wing shape is more like a falcon and a hawk, meaning you have faster and sleeker flying capabilities, but can't glide as well. The Argentavis has eagle-like wings, meaning it's more used to soaring than maneuverers. Try to use that against it."

The giant bird was soaring slowly around a tall building, not exactly gracefully. Tony vertically turned around it, making a one-eighty in its eye line. The effect was instant. The giant vulture creature's head snapped to catch sight of him and it began swooping towards him, its shadow cast upon Tony's own wingspan, which was a few feet smaller than the Argentavis' own. It gave a loud, horrific screech and began beating its wings harshly, racing towards him.

"Well, it can fly," Tony noted, giving a snort and nod of his head before corkscrewing downwards again and weaving in between the buildings with excellent accuracy.

00:34:24.

"Stark! It's chasing after you!" Natasha shouted.

"I didn't notice!" Tony yelled back into the comm, his sarcasm overwhelming. "Whoa!"

Argie had somehow managed to copy one of Tony's early moves, a high yo-yo attack, missing sinking its talons into him by a metre or so. The ancient bird shrieked again, shooting out in front, and Tony threw out his wings to complete a lagging displacement inside loop. The Argentavis started making terrible, ear-splitting screams as its prey vanished; Tony was too busy making a vertical tight left turn around another high skyscraper and landing on top of the roof.

Tony bent down on his knees. "Jesus, that thing is deadly. Please tell me Banner's almost finished."

"You've got thirty minutes left to drag out," Clint told him. "Good luck."

"Give a me second." Tony heaved in a few lungfuls of oxygen, eyes closed. "Alright, put me through to Hill. I'm gonna need something from her."

There was a click and a small section of static before Hill was addressing him crisply, "Stark."

"Clear all airspace above New York," Tony immediately ordered. "I don't want to accidentally become a bug on some plane's windscreen. That thing has a heavier centre of gravity and mass than me, doesn't have as good reaction time. If I can get high enough, then I'll force it vertically downwards at its maximum velocity; it won't be able to pull up and it'll crash."

"Splat," Clint added, oh so very helpfully.

"His physics is sound," Steve provided. It was the first time he had spoken on the comms. "We can trust Tony's judgement. If he says this plan will work, it will work."

There was silence, and then Hill was saying coldly, "I'll see what I can do. And Stark?"

Tony cringed. "Yes?"

"The Director and I are expecting an explanation after this."

"Oh no." The bird thing had noticed him on the rooftop and Tony faltered, stepping back. "Yeah, sure, just, at the moment I have to-" He jumped off and dove downwards, spinning once before he pulled upwards.

The bird pitched after him. Argie certainly wasn't giving up on its prey. Tony led it into a more open area with less high buildings, swerving and turning around buildings like a slalom, causing the Argentavis to have to pull up when it couldn't make the turns and slam into the window before pursuing again, even more angry.

Tony glanced upwards at the thick cover of clouds, beating his wings, gritting out, "Okay, time to disappear."

He flared his wings out to full span, angling until he was vertically flying straight upwards, his wings beating up and around himself powerfully. There was a faint noise in the comms of admiration from Steve, Natasha and Clint, and a sharp inhalation from Agent Hill.

Within a minute, he was circling in the clouds, his eyes squinting and wings buffeted by the water vapour, making the ends of his hairs moist and wet slightly. The Argentavis was hidden, but they could hear it clearly, and its frustration.

Tony paused hesitantly, hovering, glancing about. And suddenly, the massive bird appeared out of the clouds, talons outstretched and eyes glowing with magic. Tony yelped and dived - but his wing was caught on one sword-like talon.

He pitched sideways, gasping in pain. "Okay, time's up!" He said, voice shaking. "Let's see if this works."

He swerved in front of Argie, waving his arms, before descending into a dive, gaining speed quickly, until he was going so fast that he couldn't even see and was too cold to even speak or shake. He could sense the massive ancient bird falling in a dive behind him.

"You just reached one hundred miles per hour!" Steve shouted.

Tony could see the ground approaching, fast. His wings spread slightly in instinct, but he pushed his wings to stay still to keep diving. He tittered nervously.

"Hold," Natasha ordered calmly. "Hold."

The cars were fully visible, and the ground looked as if it was trembling in Tony's eyes. The Agentavis was screeching and following in a dive, chasing after it's prey.

"NOW!"

Tony's wings snapped out. He shot upwards, skimming past the Argentavis' colossal blue and grey wings, being pulled into a hover. The bird's own wings fluttered out, trying to pull up to catch its prey, but it wasn't fast enough. It flailed, screaming and flapping hysterically for a moment, but then collided with the earth with a crash. It stilled and didn't move.

Tony laughed in astonishment that his plan had worked, but then a sharp pain in his wing alerted him. Glancing at it, he felt dizzy as he spotted rivets of blood coating his red and gold feathers and a gaping flesh wound from where the talons had torn into his left wing. He tipped sideways slightly, and weakly flew back to the ground, landing with a thump and a stumble, a few metres from the unconscious bird.

The Quinjet that had been tailing him for the whole chase touched down and the rumbling engines stopped. Natasha and Clint rushed out and managed to get to the genius' side in time to catch him as he fell to his knees, panting and barely breathing in oxygen.

"Breathe with me, Stark," Natasha advised.

Tony watched her intently and copied her breathing in and out until he was breathing normally again and not feeling so oxygen deprived. It was only then that Steve drove up on a motorcycle with Bruce on the back.

"It's knocked out," Clint said. "But it won't be for long."

"Lucky I have this then." Bruce held up a small dart gun and a little sachet with five glimmering green liquid pills inside.

Clint took it and shot one single dart into the ancient bird. He tossed the bag and gun aside to resume his role as Tony's support. On seeing the dripping blood, Bruce tried to get near Tony's left cut wing, but the genius hissed and pulled away from him each time. 

"SHIELD is coming," Steve informed them grimly. "Fury and Hill are with them. They're going to want to take us in."

"I need to stop the bleeding first," Bruce said worriedly. "Tony, please."

"It's fine," Tony insisted tiredly. "Really, nothing much more than a scratch."

There was a crackle of static and then they were being surrounded from all sides by SHIELD agents, dressed in full black riot gear with automatic machine guns and blacked out visors, yelling at the Avengers to get onto their knees. Fury and Hill came marching in, looking extremely pissed off, until they came to stand in front of them.

"So," Fury said. "Looks like your idiotic, shitty plan actually worked, Stark. But all you've done is load me with a mountain full of paperwork and a superhuman-mutant threat assessment report to fill out."

"You'll be coming with us," Hill supplied briskly.

"Oh really?" Tony snarled, eyes narrowed.

"Yes, really."

While they were speaking, Tony was watching out of the very corner of his eye as a smaller SHIELD agent stepped forwards and knelt to pick up the dart gun and sachet. He eyed the agent carefully as it was loaded.

"I don't think I'm going anywhere with you," Tony told them with a smirk.

The dart gun went off. Tony saw red. He leapt backwards just in time for the dart to sail past him and hit a wall, clattering to the ground. He glanced at it, and then glared at the agent who had fired it. Steve tried to touch Tony's shoulder, and Bruce his injured wing, but Tony unleashed a feral growl and shied away, head snapping back and forth to try to keep every person in his sighed.

"Now you've done it," Clint muttered, closing his eyes and bowing his head.

Steve reached out again. "Tony -"

Tony flinched back and cringed. Without a second thought, he leapt into the air and took off, wings beating in a quick tandem. Another dart shot past him and he barrel rolled to avoid it. There was yelling and shouting below, but he didn't care.

"Tony, please, you don't have to -" Tony ripped the ear piece out of his ear and threw it aside. Shoving away his feelings of betrayal, shock and anger, he flew onwards, poundings his wings until he was too high to be detected or seen by any people below.

He needed somewhere to rest up, and was dying to get something to eat, and his throat was burning. He looped around, gold and red wings arching; catching sight of the upper deck and penthouse of Stark Tower, he descended towards it. Flaring his wings to full span once again, he landed on the helicopter pad.

"Sir," JARVIS greeted him instantly, sounding Britishly worried. "I have been monitoring SHIELD's network. They are attempting to track you."

"I'm well aware, Jay," Tony replied, voice cracking as he headed inside to the top floor, avoiding the smashed up areas. "Shut down all communication with them. If they try to hack in, put up our nastiest firewall."

"Of course, Sir. I've also already taken the liberty to create a false trail leading SHIELD to believe you are currently heading towards your vacation home on the Eastern Canadian Coast."

Tony tucked his wings loosely and poured himself a large glass of water, which he downed in one, and then a glass of scotch. Taking a swig, he picked up the whole bottle in one hand and smiling bitterly, he collapsed on one of the sofas after checking it for broken glass.

He was just downing his second glass when somebody said, "Drinking isn't good for your health."

Tony turned and, catching sight of both Natasha and Steve standing in the doorway, he looked back down at his scotch glass and traced the rim with one single shaking finger. "Yeah? Tell that to nearly fifteen years of alcoholism." He glanced up for a fleeting movement, eyes calculating. "If you're here to take me in, you should know that JARVIS is extremely protective."

"Indeed I am," JARVIS piped up, his voice flat and sounding somewhat malicious. "If either of you dare lay a hand on Tony Stark then defensive protocol fifty-seven states that I can fire missiles and projective bullets at my own will."

Natasha stalked forwards, eyebrow raised. "You made a protocol to protect yourself, Stark?"

"He did not," JARVIS said coldly. "I imputed the protocol myself, Agent Romanoff. And I will not hesitate to use it."

"Calm it, Jay," Tony called out, swirling his scotch glass. "She just wants to talk."

"I will monitor all interaction, Sir, and also monitor all communications to and from the Tower."

Tony set his glass down and stood, ignoring the ache of his muscles and the shiver that ran down his spine. His wings flared slightly until they were spread at half-span, bristling like a dog's raised hackles.

"So," he started. "What exactly do you want?"

"Bruce was concerned," Natasha stated coolly. "He said your wing was bleeding badly. Fury picked up a trail leading to Canada and set off with Hill to follow it, taking Clint with him. Bruce is headed back to the helicarrier, but Steve and I thought the most logical place you would be, would be here."

Tony levelled his glower at her and something pulled and tugged at his insides; energy sparking inside of him, charging him up, strengthening him. "What do you want?"

"We wanted to check on you," Steve reassured, stepping forwards with his hands out. "We may have only known each other for a few weeks, Stark, but already we consider you family. You can trust us, tell us what you're feeling. We were worried, and with good reason." His eyes lingered on the cut sliced across his left wing. "That needs to be treated."

"I've had worse," Tony said dismissively. "And Im sorry if I offend you, but you're not my family. Sure, you can be worried all you want, but I am not going to start spewing out my emotions in your face. I'm a lone wolf, Steve. I hunt by myself, I lick my own wounds. As soon as another pack comes into the picture..." He shook his head. "I don't deal well with...people."

"So you don't trust us," Natasha said, glaring.

"Honey, I don't trust you as far as I can throw you," Tony hissed at her.

"There's no need to be rude," Steve retorted, giving the dreaded I-am-very-disappointed-in-you frown.

"I think I have the right," Tony snarled, wings towering intimidatingly, "After she spied on me for three months and actively enjoyed watching me die from blood poisoning."

"I did not enjoy it!" Natasha snapped. "You have some sort of messed up hero complex where you constantly need to be dying. Need I remind you exactly when Miss Potts discovered you had been poisoned?" She sneered, obviously very riled up now, bristling with her own pent-up rage. "How obnoxiously self-obsessed can you get, you narcissistic idiot?"

Tony gave a bitter laugh. "Because that's what everybody thinks, isn't it? That I'm so enamoured by my own reflection that I can't see what's surrounding me. Friends, family." He started forwards, lips drawing back in a snarl. "Well let me tell you something. My Dad hit me, kicked me and beat me. The man I looked up to my entire life, the man I trusted with my company, betrayed me and tried to kill me multiple times. I've learnt the hard way not to trust anybody, Romanoff. Be grateful I let you live in my house. That's just about the most trust I'll place in somebody."

"Then you obviously have no concept of what trust is," Steve told him, frowning.

"What would you know about trust?" Tony spat.

"More than you," Natasha said bitterly. "All you do is shut people out."

Tony's expression went cold. A furious, deadly mask came over his face. His wings rose even higher, casting a dark shadow over Natasha and Steve. He stepped forwards. The lights began flickering. The glass window panes stated rattling. An eerie spark clouded in his eyes. His gold feathers were glittering dangerously.

"Get. Out."

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't understand you," Natasha nastily sassed. "I don't speak self-sacrificing bastard."

"I said. GET. OUT!"

The light bulbs exploded. Two windows shattered. The floor began shaking and trembling and the chairs clattered, thrown aside, vases and glasses smashing.

Tony leapt backwards in shock. He shot Natasha and Steve a look of absolute terror and fright. 

Natasha grabbed Steve by the arm. They hightailed it out of the Tower, running back to their SHIELD SUV, both wide-eyed and disbelieving. They stood for a moment in silence, but then Natasha pulled out her SHIELD mobile.

"What do you think that was?" Steve asked, shooting a puzzled look back up to the Tower. 

"I would say magic," Natasha replied dryly, tapping on her phone. "But I've seen too much to label it like that. For all we know, the wings weren't all he was hiding; he really could be a mutant."

"What are you doing?" Steve questioned.

"Calling this in," Natasha answered, dialling a number quickly and listening to it ring. "This is above us. Stark's too dangerous."

"Natasha, you saw him back there," Steve pleaded, taking hold of her arm. "He was terrified. He had no idea what was going on."

"That's assuming he didn't."

"Do you really think he would've reacted like that if those weren't spontaneous telekinetic powers?" Steve glanced down at the still-ringing phone. "Natasha, please. He's afraid."

"I know," Natasha responded, and she sounded sad. "But that's exactly what makes him dangerous, Captain." She turned back to her phone. "It's Agent Romanoff, Director. I'm afraid the situation's more complicated than we originally thought..."

................................................

Tony fell to his knees, surrounded by broken glass, fallen objects and cracked windows. "What am I?" he whispered.

"What have I done?"

"WHAT AM I?!"

...............................................

"Target spotted and acquired. Target is maintaining steady velocity - 32mph heading North East. Approaching from beneath, using heavy precipitation and clouds as cover. Request for contact?"

"He's not an idiot," Natasha said, her feet up on the desk, tapping away at her phone. "He'll figure out you're tailing him again. We've had the same results for the last two weeks. I don't know why you keep trying."

"Tony Stark is a possible threat. We need to access his mutations and enhancements." Fury turned back to the helicarrier screen, barking, "Request approved. Approach with caution. If possible, pursue and capture."

"Roger that, Sir. Approaching target. Pursuit initiated. Target diving, Sir, accelerating to speeds of eighty miles per hour. Target not slowing, target is heading towards ground, Sir. Target is -" the line went quiet. "Target crashed, Sir."

Fury remained blank. "Scan for life forms."

"Scanning, Sir. No life forms detected, Sir. Although there seems to be some sort of pre-recorded imputed message, Sir."

"Play it."

))AC~DC Black in Black(( That's the sixteenth time, boys. Should probably train your lapdogs how to differentiate a decoy from the real thing. Go **** yourself, Fury. Stark out.

Fury turned away, gritting his teeth, a vein popping out on his forehead as he clenched his fists very tightly.

Leaning in the doorway, Clint shrugged. "Gotta admit, he's got style."

....................................................

The sun was lowly setting on the Malibu Coast, staining the clear sky with shades of lilac, tangerine and pink, the dotted clouds glowing crimson and wavering due to the faint cool breeze. As the sun dipped lower under the horizon and a dark purple and blue began to creep into the upper edges of the sky, a faint black shape soared over the softly crashing foam, shoes clacking against the glass as he landed.

"Daddy's home," Tony called out, clapping his hands as he ended the house. "Time to wake up."

"Good evening, Sir," JARVIS greeted him. "I am relieved to see you in one piece, unlike the Mark 24 armour."

"Needed a diversion, Jay," Tony shrugged, shaking out his right wing and then his left wing, wincing when the slice across it burnt. "Never really liked that suit anyway. Was too... blue, if you know what I mean."

"It was painted black and red, Sir," JARVIS deadpanned. "There has been no recent attempted contact from any of the Avengers, though strangely enough energy levels above America seem to be increasing by the hour."

"Huh." Tony popped a whole Twizzler into his mouth. "Think SHIELD's messing about with the DNA they found?"

"It doesn't seem to be DNA related, Sir. I will search through SHIELD's network and see if I can find anything of import."

Tony nodded, grabbing another Twizzler. "Bring up the reports down in the Workshop. I'll grab a drink and be down there in a sec."

He snagged a glass and instead of a shot or an alcoholic beverage, he fished a can of energy drink out of the fridge, popping the top and pouring it out. The wound in his wing hadn't been cleaned properly, and was slightly festering; the skin was peeling and blackening around the edges, and the cut itself occasionally bled or released a clear white liquid that smelt putrid and Tony didn't even want to know the name of. The wound itself wasn't just irritating or hurting; he had found that as it worsened, he himself worsened. He was sleeping much more and needed more energy.

Hence the energy drink. "Jay, put more Monster on the shopping list. This is my second Red Bull today, and the stuff doesn't exactly taste fantastic."

As Tony headed down into his workshop, his mind wandered to SHIELD. Fury and Hill had been attempting to track him for two weeks, trying to even hack into JARVIS. That only ended up with SHIELD's systems playing endless cat videos for two days. What really bothered him was the fact that Natasha, Steve and Clint seemed to be on SHIELD's side.

Tony had seen what Steve and Natasha had been calling him in the written-up debrief reports.

))Dangerous. Uncontrollable. Not to be trusted. Powerful. Mysterious. A threat to humanity.((

Tony clenched his fists. A nearby framed Iron Man poster's glass cracked; the paper poster inside burst into flames and the whole thing was thrown onto the floor. He looked down at it in dismay. The fire burnt out before he carefully and gently picked it up.

"Bloody stupid magic," he muttered.

"We are not yet sure it is indeed magic, Sir," JARVIS butted in kindly, quietly, reassuringly. "Telekinesis would be more probable."

"Doesn't explain the random setting fire to things," Tony said. He looked sadly at his most recent ruined object. "I really liked that poster."

...

CRASH.

...

"Okay, that wasn't me."

Tony vanished his wings and clambered into an Iron Man suit powering up the repulsors before heading towards to where the sound had originated. He cautiously went upstairs and stepped outside, aiming his repulsor away and looking around suspiciously. He was greeted by the site of a massive crater in the ground only ten metres away from the house, smoothed by impact and smoking. 

It was a man. He was unconscious and in a ball, hands folded over a practically non-existant stomach; his pale ragged form had been beaten black and blue and he was shockingly thin. Covered in bruises, underneath his thin green cotton shirt he was bloodied with a half-healed stab wound in his shoulder, his face hollow and gaunt.

The man's face weakly turned towards him and shockingly emerald green eyes filled with fear and confusion and hostility flashed.

Tony lowered his hand and his jaw dropped.

"Loki?!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave comment and kudos...
> 
> And Tony's powers... *raises one eyebrow* *taps chin*
> 
> And then... Randomly, Loki. *cheers* I just went, what the hell, let's give 'em Loki as a cliffhanger. They'll LOVE that! (please don't kill me I like my life)
> 
> And if you have stayed for credits. Thank you, you are awesome and can have virtual cookies.


	4. Part 4: Torn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the last chapter... And as you have noticed, this is now a 'Verse. I have written other stories for it so...yeah.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! I'm sorry if some characters are a little OOC. I'm trying to imagine this situation and this is how they would react in my mind.

The god blinked at him.

"Oh my god. Oh god, oh god." Tony stood there, helpless and stunned, not knowing what to do. He clambered out of the Iron Man suit, letting JARVIS take control. "Jesus. What do - damn, what the hell happened to you?" He moved forwards, tripping into the crater and kneeling, hands flailing over the broken body. "Oh god. Jesus, I am not cut out for this. What do I do?"

One pale eyelid cracked open and one dull green eye glared up at him. "Please refrain from rambling," the god choked out, his voice raw and rough and tortured. "And as for what you should do, I would very much appreciate if we could go inside your strange palace."

"Of course. Just... Jesus. They did a number on you."

Tony managed to get Loki half into his arms, but without his wings out, he didn't feel at all balanced. With a deep breath, he released them and spread them slightly, heaving the whimpering pained god into his arms and quickly starting towards the nearest door.

Finding a couch to place the god on, he immediately pulled out a blanket for him and whipped up a glass of water.

Loki took the glass, eyeing it distrustfully. He cast a thoughtful, suspicious glance up at Tony. Tony knew that look.

"Oh Jesus. They poisoned your water too, huh?" He took the glass and drank from it once before handing it back. "See? No poison. No drugs. Safe, clean, drinkable water."

Loki drank. He drained the glass dry, but as soon as he finished and handed back the glass, a terrible coughing fit began. Tony gave him a tissue, and when the tissue came away from Loki's mouth, it was stained scarlet with blood.

"I'm not a doctor," Tony said. "But to me, it looks like you're bleeding internally."

"Only expected after they forced acid down my throat," Loki replied dryly.

Nausea was rolling over Tony in waves. He wings shook and trembled, spasming and twitching ever so often. His right wing was unconsciously reaching out to try and comfort the trickster.

"It was that purple guy Thanos, right? The alien dude who was controlling you during the battle."

"Yes," Loki answered quietly. "He was not pleased that his plan failed."

Tony swallowed. "So he took it out on you. That sick bastard."

Loki seemed only then to see the wings. "You have wings," he said, and he sounded puzzled.

"Surprise." Tony sat down opposite him. He stared at Loki for a moment before he pulled out his phone. "Okay, as much as I'm enjoying our chat, I'm kinda worried about you keeling over and dying on that couch, so I'm gonna call a doctor so that expiry date of yours doesn't run out."

"Worried about me, Stark?" Loki glanced up weakly and - there was it - gave him the classic Loki smirk.

"Worried about my couch," Tony corrected, with a teasing smile. "You would not believe what that dear couch has gone through."

"Poor couch," Loki retorted, with a short bark of laughter before he started coughing and heaving again, trembling and shivering, turning even paler if that was possible, the mottled purple and blue bruises becoming even more pronounced.

"Stay there, and don't die," Tony ordered, crossing the room and selecting the right number on his Starkphone. "Bruce, it's Tony, and before you start yelling at me, shut up. Medical emergency. I need your help."

"...You're missing for two weeks, and when you finally call it's because you need medical help?"

Tony glanced back at the god of mischief to make sure he hadn't spontaneously died. "Look, I would apologise, but I'm really not sorry. SHIELD can go to hell for all I care. But I need your help. Please."

Bruce hesitated. "Only because you said please. What do you need?"

"You," Tony replied. "Get your butt round here pronto. I've got a dying green-eyed god of mischief on my couch."

"Wait, Loki's at your house?"

"He sort of crashed in my yard."

"..."

"I know, I know." He grimaced. "Not exactly the best patient, but you're the only doctor I know and trust." He took his phone down from his ear and snapped a quick picture of Loki lying motionlessly on his couch, breathing shallowly, rasping. "I'm sending you a picture."

Bruce must have received the photo, because he gave a sharp intake of breath. "Tony, that's serious. He needs a proper hospital."

"A proper hospital? In case you didn't notice, a month ago he was brainwashed and smashed up most of New York. They're not exactly going to offer him cookies and hot cocoa."

"I didn't mean a public hospital."

Tony went quiet. His arm fell and he stood for a moment, swallowing, his wings drooping twitching. When he finally spoke into the phone again, he was incredulous, his voice low. "Bruce. You're suggesting that I contact SHIELD."

"It's the only logical option, Tony," Bruce answered tiredly. "SHIELD know that Loki was mind-controlled, and have an advanced medical wing prepared for Asgardian patients." Bruce paused and then said quietly, "Fury wants to speak with you."

"What, right now?"

"Right now, on the phone, yes."

"So you're at SHIELD."

"Yes. Tony, Fury really really wants to speak with you."

Tony ran a hand through his hair and glanced back at Loki - who was now bleeding out from his stab wound and unconscious. Tony managed to put him into the recovery position using one hand.

"Put him on," he said hurriedly. "Look, tell him we can do most negotiations later. Loki needs help urgently."

There was static as Bruce's phone exchanged hands. Then a gruff, "You're pissing me off, Stark."

"So nothing's changed," Tony snarked.

"Banner's informed me of the situation. You finally gonna come in?"

"I'm not sure," Tony responded honestly, checking Loki's pulse and breathing. "Are you going to tranq me and have me dissected the moment I step onto that helicarrier?"

"We'll negotiate when you're on the helicarrier and we have Loki in medical." Fury added, "I'm sending Romanoff and Barton in a Quinjet. Mind telling us where you've holed yourself up?"

"The top secret lair that happens to be - oh, no, wait. I'm on the run. Why would I tell you that?" Tony replied sarcastically. "Pick us up at my house."

"Better not try anything funny, Stark."

"And why would I do that?"

"You'd do it purely for shits and giggles. Don't mess with me, Stark. ETA is ten minutes. Get ready." Fury hung up.

Tony pulled on a jacket carelessly and struggled to wrap Loki in a thick blanket. Cradling the unconscious god in his arms, wings arching and poised stiffly behind him, he began heading out into the darkness of the night.

The Quinjet arrived promptly, lighting up the ground with powerful headlights, touching down, the back opening up to reveal Clint and Natasha solemnly staring at him in their SHIELD uniforms. Tony eyed them both warily when he realised that Clint had an arrow loosely nocked to his bow and Natasha had a gun in hand.

A nameless, faceless agent approached. Clint openly aimed an arrow at him as the agent got within arm's reach. Tony carefully passed on the unconscious Loki into his arms before stepping back, wings spreading and tucking uneasily.

He watched as the agent carried Loki into the Quinjet, out of sight, before his gaze clashed with the calculating stare Natasha was sending him. He turned his attention fully onto her, gazing straight into her eyes, trying to project many emotions and his thoughts all at once.

A hand brushed against his elbow. All at once, Tony whipped around and threw his arms out to protect himself, his wings flared out to full span and gave three massive flaps, and red and gold sparks leapt from his fingertips, sending the agent flying backwards or crash into the ground. Obviously just winded, the agent grabbed his gun and shot once at Tony's outstretched right wing. Tony snarled as the bullet skimmed past without hitting him, eyes ablaze with fury.

"Don't," Natasha warned quietly. Tony's head snapped back around and he glared at her. She had her gun trained on him confidently. "Don't do something you'll regret. I don't want to shoot you, but attack Agent Willis and I won't hesitate."

"He attacked me, if you didn't notice," Tony growled back, searching with hawk-like eyes for any other agents who were going to randomly grab at him. He shot the gun a disdainful look. "You can put that down."

Natasha didn't stutter, or move. Clint placed his bow down and helped Agent Willis up onto his feet. Tony glowered as Clint approached him, hands aloft to show he didn't have any weapons. As soon as Clint moved to touch him, take hold of his arm, Tony unleashed a familiar feral growl.

"Do. Not. Touch. Me." He pulled away. "I told Fury I would come. I didn't say I would come quietly and let you bloody well handcuff me."

"I wasn't going to-"

"And that's why you have handcuffs in your right jacket pocket." Tony raised his eyebrows pointedly.

Clint sent Natasha a pleading look. "He's coming with. He doesn't have to be in handcuffs."

"Fury's concerned he could be a danger to SHIELD personal."

"Yeah, I know," Tony said in a clipped voice. "And I wonder why that is. I read that lovely little debrief report, Romanoff. You and Steve were so complimentary." He tapped his chin in mock thought. "Let me think. Oh yeah. 'Dangerous'. 'A threat'. 'Not to be trusted'. I could write you out a list."

"You neglected to inform us you had telekinetic powers, Stark-"

"Which I had no idea about," Tony finished, his wings finally relaxing slightly. "They seem to play up whenever I feel angry or threatened. So I would stop loading that tranquilliser gun if I were you, Agent Willis." He tilted his head to the side. "There's a cliff only five metres to your right. You might not be as lucky next time."

"That was a threat," Clint said, picking up his bow again.

"That was a warning," Tony corrected. "So how about this. I'll get onto that Quinjet, if you leave me alone. You don't make me angry, I don't blow anything up and we all arrive at the helicarrier, all in one piece." He crossed his arms. "Deal?"

Natasha and Clint glanced at each other. "Deal."

"Okay. Let's get Reindeer Games some medical attention then." Tony's eyes lurked over to Agent Willis and he smirked. "And yes, they are real wings, Agent Willis. You can stop gawping."

.....................................................

 

The wings were cautious, uneasy. They flared and spread on Tony's back, ruffling defensively and bristling, feathers twitching. As Tony stepped out of the Quinjet onto the helicarrier, he cast unsure eyes up at the dark, black sky, at the twinkling stars and the nightingale blue pelt that stretched across space.

"Beautiful night," he commented.

Natasha didn't look at him. "Follow me."

"Where? To a prison cell?" Tony snarked wryly, falling into step behind her and allowing his wings to rise intimidatingly, preening under the looks the agents on the flight desk were sending him, filled with awe and shock and fear.

"The bridge's private conference room," Natasha responded. "Fury will meet you there."

Tony cast a look back. "Where's Loki going?"

"Medical bay. Barton and Willis are taking him. Follow me."

"I am following you. Hey, look, it's Steve!" Tony cupped his hands to his mouth. "Hey, Spangles! Thanks for my glowing report! Such kind and supportive words!"

Steve was standing by the door in full uniform, but he wasn't smiling. His face was steely and blank as he joined the line and flanked Tony. The winged genius couldn't help but feel slightly more nervous with the super soldier in his blind spot, drawing his wings further into his back.

Two more agents oh so magically appeared behind Steve so Tony didn't just have Captain America following him, he had two agents ready to shoot him as well. Tony glanced at them all, calculating; he could use his wings to knock them out against the wall and clock Natasha from behind before they even had time to react.

As they continued walking down a corridor, two more agents slotted in from the sides next to Natasha. Tony's plan went spiralling down epically. He twisted nervously and his wings twitched and fluttered. A single lightbulb he was walking under sparked out.

A gun muzzle butted him in the back. Tony snarled, but didn't turn around, only arching his wings threateningly.

"Stand down, Agent Cole," Steve ordered gruffly.

"Yeah, stand down Agent Cole." Tony bared his teeth. "If you know what's good for you. I have a very short temper."

"Shut up, Stark," Natasha tossed over her shoulder. "Our deal was you wouldn't use any magic."

"Forgive me for feeling a little bit threatened when I have a gun poking into my spine," Tony hissed.

"At ease." They had reached the conference room. Fury was standing outside the door with Hill by his side, and though Hill was glaring hatefully, the Director seemed more exasperated than angry. "Return to your stations." His one eye found Natasha and Steve and he stared forcefully. "You too."

Steve and Natasha shot Tony dubious glances before walking off together. The other agents who had been escorting them walked off without a second look. The corridor seemed to be instantly vacated, leaving only the three of them.

Tony slowly turned back to Fury, clearly allowing his defiance to show. Fury raised one eyebrow and opened the conference room door. Hill moved so she was standing behind Tony, forcing him to enter.

There weren't any traps that he could see. No ambushes or hidden agents. Fury took the head table seat, Hill standing behind him, arms crossed and lips pursed.

"Sit down, Stark." Fury had taken out a file and was flipping through it.

"I'd rather not," Tony responded, eyes narrowed.

Fury looked up from his papers. "Suit yourself. We're gonna be here a long time if you keep that attitude up. I was under the impression you wanted this sorted as quickly as possible, Stark."

"I don't want to be here at all," Tony huffed honestly, glaring. "But Loki required your help. And so here I am."

Hill leafed through several forms. "You'll have to have a physical examination of course, as well as several scans and -"

"Who said anything any examinations and scans?" Tony interrupted, rage leaking into his voice as he spread his stance. "I agreed we would negotiate."

"And negotiate we shall." Fury closed the file. "What would you consent to in exchange for you to take an X-Ray in SHIELD biochemistry?"

"A full body X-Ray?" Tony confirmed. When Fury nodded, Tony finally drew up a chair, turning it around and sitting on it backwards, leaning his arms on the back and folding his wings. "I want Loki to live with me, once medical's released him."

Hill slammed he fist down on the table. "Absolutely not! You are out of line! He stays in SHIELD custody - he's an important witness, withholding information and he's a possible future asset."

Tony smiled and stood. "Good bye." He made a beeline for the door.

A hand caught his left wing. Tony stopped. All the lights in the room exploded and an ornamental glass wall with the shield symbol emblazed on it shattered, sending glass shards skidding over the floor.

"Maria," Fury advised slowly and quietly. "I would step away if I were you."

Maria Hill let go of Tony's left wing and backed off. Tony himself released the massive breath he had taken, but it came through his gritted teeth, so came out as a hiss. He whipped back around, teeth bared and wings fully spreading out to full span to try to scare his opponent.

It worked. Hill shrank back slightly and Fury lowered his eye.

"We'll sort the matter of where Loki will live after he's healed, debriefed and settled," Fury said formally. "For all we know, Thor's gonna come swooping back down from the rainbow road and drag him back to Asgard. But let's just say, our arrangement now, at this moment, is that Loki will be homed at Stark Tower, if he wishes to be, and only if he agrees." He tapped on the table. "Satisfied?"

Tony sat back down onto his chair, warily. "Back to negotiation exchanges then?"

Fury nodded and motioned for Hill to sit. She did, albeit grudgingly. Fury turned to to Tony, hands interlacing. "So. A CAT scan?"

"The Avengers are private from SHIELD," Tony immediately said. "You can contact and work with us, but we run our own. I've already asked Pepper for SI funding support and to get the Avengers trademarked and certified."

Fury didn't look happy. "Alright. But Romanoff, Barton and Rogers still operate as SHIELD agents. A full physical examination?"

"Getting bigger here," Tony muttered. "The Avengers are housed with me. Permanently."

"Sir-" Hill tried to butt in.

"Shut up, Hill." Fury stared scrutinisingly at Tony. "You're really into this Avengers thing, aren't you?"

"Bruce is my science bro. Clint makes good jokes. Steve needs a modern society education. Natasha makes good pancakes."

Fury flatly repeated, "Agent Romanoff makes good pancakes."

"The best," Tony added. "Oh, and Thor is awesome. Why would I not want the God of Thunder living in my house?"

Fury sat back. "I'll consent to that with one condition. You check in every week giving reports to SHIELD."

"Done," Tony replied.

"And it has to be in person."

"Oh." Tony winced. "Okay, I think that's fair. I think that's enough for now." He made to stand.

"No, we're not done. I still haven't got onto those powers of yours." Fury glowered at him. "I want you to come with me to meet Charles Xavier. He'll train you to control it."

"For the hundredth time!" Tony whined, annoyed and exasperated. "I am not a mutant!"

"Deal?"

Tony grumbled. "Deal."

.........................................................

Loki was awake and aware when Tony entered his private medical room. He was lying on one of those pristine white hospital beds, with nearly three different IVs, one in his collarbone and the other two in his arms. His green eyes flashed as Tony entered the room and he humphed in a satisfied matter.

"The man in the strange mask said you were not coming back, but I did not believe him," Loki said triumphantly. "I said you would come back."

"Was that the guy I just saw walking down the corridor with a broken nose and two black eyes?" Tony questioned, trying to sound stern, but only sounding amused. "Don't they have you on sedation?"

"Your human sedation is not affective on me," Loki said smugly. "They have tripled the dose, yet I do not feel anything."

Tony laughed and his wings shook with him. He leant against the wall beside Loki's bed, smiling. "You must be a terrible patient."

"I am," Loki admitted, somewhat proud of this fact.

"I'm a terrible patient too," Tony told him with a grin. "When I first met Pepper, I burnt myself pretty badly on some open circuitry. She tried to make me go to hospital but I refused and made a blanket fort in my room and fended her off with Nerf guns."

Loki couldn't help it. He laughed. "You are strange, Anthony Stark. But I think we will soon become good friends."

Tony looked even more hopeful. "Really? Does that mean I can start name-dropping that I'm friends with the god of mischief?"

"As long as I can claim I am the comrade of the famous Anthony Stark," Loki replied. He paused and then added, "I apologise for throwing you out of a window."

"I apologise for trying to shizz your arse," Tony smiled. "These are a lot of machines they have you wired up to here. Oh, hey, what's -" 

Curiously, he examined a machine that Loki had been attached to, but as soon as he touched a wire, it beeped, startling him. Another lightbulb fizzled out.

Loki appeared completely fascinated. "I did not know Midgardians had their own magic."

"We don't," Tony grumbled. "It's just me."

"Incredible. I too am skilled in the magical art, but have never seen magic such as yours. Could you possibly give me a demonstration?"

"Unfortunately not. I can't exactly control it," Tony told him. "Wait. You said you have magic? Does that mean you could teach me?"

Loki licked his lips. "Maybe. Your magic is unlike any I have ever encountered, but seems to have the basic principles."

"Try and fit me into your schedule?" Tony questioned with a smile. "So, er, once you're released, where're you headed? Back to Asgard?"

Loki's friendly face turned completely blank and cold at the reminder of his old home. His whole body stiffened and the heart monitor started to beep faster, indicating his pulse was speeding up. Loki turned away, the thin sheet rustling as he shifted.

"No," he said shortly. "I will not be returning to Asgard."

"So you're homeless."

Loki mussed his hand in his sheets. "Is that not a bit harsh? I am sure your Fury will provide me with accommodation once I have given my report on Thanos and the war."

Tony raised an eyebrow, and his wings rose along with it. "Stay here? In SHIELD? Really?"

"I have no other place to go," Loki muttered.

Tony snuck a sneaky look at the camera in the left corner. "What would you say if I said you could come stay with me?"

Loki looked up, shocked and touched and hopeful all at the same time. "You would allow this?"

"Doesn't matter if I allow it. Do you want to?"

"Yes!" Loki cried out, squirming on the bed, his eyes alight with new hope. "Yes, please!"

Tony laughed and punched the air, swivelling around to point at the camera. "Ha! Take that, Fury! Loki's living with me!"

The door to the hospital room opened and Fury was standing there with Hill, looking disgruntled and pissed off. Loki shrank back slightly as they approached.

"And how're you gonna explain the living arrangements to Agent Barton, hmm?"

"He'll just have to suck it up, because the god of mischief is coming home with me," Tony grinned smugly. His wings gave little twitches of happiness.

"We'll sort out the rest later," Hill gritted out. "For now, you need to reconcile with your team, Stark."

"Oh, you mean the team that betrayed me and told you all about me behind my back? Hmm, yeah, I'm sure that will be a ball," Tony drawled.

"Go," Fury ordered, sticking his thumb back to the door. "I need to talk to Mr Laufeyson here."

Tony rolled his eyes and folded his wings so he could fit through the doorframe, and departed the medical wing, sending Loki a quick wink as he did. He followed the idiotic signs through the corridors until he found the main conference room again.

Natasha was pacing the length of the room, Clint watching her in the corner, and both Steve and Bruce were sitting at the table calmly, though Bruce was tapping the table looking a bit nervous.

Tony entered the room without any hesitance. His wings automatically flared slightly as he stared straight into Steve's eyes in defiance.

"Look at what the cat dragged in," Clint commented, standing up properly.

"An injured bird," Natasha added. "That doesn't look sanitary."

She was gazing at the infected, blackened cut on his left wing. Tony had forgotten all about it, the dull pain distant in the tense atmosphere, but now they had highlighted it again, it sent tremors of agony lacing through his wings. Drawing his left wing in slightly, he winced.

"Let me have a look," Bruce said, jumping up. There was nothing accusing nor judging in his posture. He was more worried than anything else.

"It's not bad," Tony tried. "You don't have to -" He yelped.

Bruce leapt backwards, the whites of his eyes tinged green; as soon as he had brushed a hand across the slash, the lightbulb above them smashed.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" Tony hurriedly tried to apologise, hands up and backing off. "I can't control it, it just happens sometimes! Please don't smash me!"

"I'm not going to smash you," Bruce huffed. The green tinge to his eyes and the tenseness of his muscles had faded. "And do you honestly think I care if you break a few lightbulbs?"

"I know SHIELD maintenance does," Clint murmured quietly.

"Let him see," Steve ordered, also standing and moving around so he placed one hand on each of Tony's shoulders.

Tony wanted to hiss and snarl when the Captain touched him, still angry about what Steve had said in that report, but his wing was aching and the wound was pulsing, so he grumbled and opened the wing up so Bruce could examine it.

"I have ointment and antibiotics in my suitcase. I'll write you out a prescription."

Tony shoved Steve's hand off of his shoulder. "Great," he said forcefully. "Well, it was lovely having this talk, but I have ten new DVD box sets to get back to."

"You're flying back?" Natasha asked sharply.

"You shouldn't be flying on that wing," Bruce informed.

"What DVD box sets?" Clint questioned, off topic.

"Doctor Who, Sherlock, some Big Bang Theory-"

"Tony," Steve snapped.

"I'll be fine," Tony said dismissively. He strode away out of the conference room, feeling slightly annoyed as the Avengers followed him. "I flew here and had no problems. And frankly I prefer being alone and - where are you taking me?"

He stopped. Clint and Natasha had been herding him on the flight deck towards the Avengers Quinjet without him even realising.

"Oh no," he told them. "You must be crazy if you think I'm riding with you guys. I make my own way." He turned away.

Steve took his arm. But on remembering, he promptly let go. He had luckily avoided being thrown back, and at the same time had succeeded in gaining Tony's attention.

"Look, we're sorry, okay?" Clint apologised. "We didn't want to hurt you. In fact, all we really wanted to do was keep you safe and help you out. I know you must hate us, but we all thought that the best way to do that was to assert some control."

"Some control? I basically just signed myself up to be a SHIELD lab rat."

"A few tests and scans doesn't make you a lab rat," Steve crossed his arms. "Otherwise I would be a SHIELD lab rat too."

"Steve, you've been a SHIELD lab rat ever since you took that serum. So, for like, seventy five years now," Clint said.

"I'm trying to make a point."

"Not a very strong one."

"I think," Bruce interrupted. "What Clint and Steve are trying to say, in their own unique way, is that we're really sorry." He looked very apologetic. "We were all a bit confused and didn't know what to do. I guess we're all idiots."

Tony stared at then all silently for a moment, before he said, "It's getting loud out here. What do you say we get into the Quinjet and get back to my house?"

The Avengers sighed in relief. They climbed inside and settled, Clint piloting, and they were soon flying over American rocky countryside towards Malibu. Clint put the Quinjet on autopilot to join them.

"We were worried your telekinesis could become dangerous." Bruce paused. "It could become dangerous, you know that, right?"

"I'm not arguing with that." Tony shrugged his wings. "And I admit, I was clueless myself. I've smashed seven windows and lost count of how many things I've set on fire."

He leant onto the side of the Quinjet, finally allowing his exhaustion to show. The wound had been draining his energy, but he had been putting up a facade of perfect health. Now, he was too tired to hide.

"I keep freezing my scotch. Do you know how frustrating that is? And Pepper - she moved in just two months ago, but she moved out after two weeks because whenever I get startled or angry or anything, I explode things."

Natasha narrowed her eyes scrutinisingly. "It's not just telekinesis. Pyrokinesis and cyrokinesis as well?"

"We can probably deduce that hydrokinesis is to be expected." Bruce was noting this all down onto a small notebook. "This really is something amazing, Tony. Something to be explored."

"I get that it's great and everything and you think it's cool," Tony said. "But I have no idea why I have these powers and at the moment I don't know how to use them or control them. Natasha and Steve were right in one part - I could hurt you guys."

"We'll help you as much as we can, Tony," Bruce promised, shutting his book. "And you're correct. We have no idea where your powers came from."

"They just appeared suddenly," Natasha said. "Without any warning at all?"

"I..." Tony trailed off, frowning down into his shoes. Come to think of it, that boiling sensation of energy building and writhing inside of him, wanting to be unleashed, was not uncommon. He had felt it before. "Actually, I'm not sure. It's like... It's like I've always had this force inside of me, but couldn't use it before. And then spontaneously it just -"

"Exploded?" Clint offered.

"Good choice of word, considering I did actually explode stuff once it came out," Tony smirked. "But yeah, I guess."

"The way you're explaining it makes it sound as if it's a form of energy," Steve thought out loud. "And people are always saying that energy can be measured."

"Exactly," Bruce pointed one finger at him. "We'll figure this out. And once we've done that, we'll learn how to control it."

"'We'?"

"I know it's sorta cheesy," Clint said. "But we're all in this together now."

Tony gave a low groan. "Please don't tell me you just quoted High School Musical."

"If you know the quote, you can't judge, man. That's the rules."

"Well, if we're all in this together," Tony looked between them all. "Then looks like you guys are in this for the long haul. Better get comfy."

......................................................

_Ever since I could remember,_

_Everything inside of me,_

_Just wanted to fit in (oh oh oh oh)_

_I was never one for pretenders,_

_Everything I tried to be,_

_Just wouldn't settle in (oh oh oh oh)_

_If I told you what I was,_

_Would you turn your back on me?_

_And if I seem dangerous,_

_Would you be scared?_

_I get the feeling just because_

_Everything I touch isn't dark enough_

_That this problem lies in me_

_I'm only a man with a candle to guide me,_

_I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me._

_A monster, a monster,_

_I've turned into a monster,_

_A monster, a monster,_

_And it keeps getting stronger._

'Monster' Imagine Dragons 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around and reading guys. Any/all comments, kudos, bookmarks are all greatly appreciated. I hope you enjoyed the story and I promise that I will have to next installments up soon.
> 
> Thank you so much. I love you guys! Signing out.
> 
> Sincerely, Alexia Blackbriar :)

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed. Have written second part and is ready to be posted... Please comment or click that little button *glances down* Yeah, that one.
> 
> Thank you!


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